Life in Bruises
by Inanimaterabbit
Summary: AU Kurosaki Ichigo is a martial artist in the company of the greatest collegiate fighters in Japan. Finally out in the "wide world," he deals with professional and private jealousies, insane acquaintances, friendship, sex, and love. Grim x I some Aiz x I
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Life in Bruises  
**Pairing:** Grimmjow x Ichigo mainly, some Aizen x Ichigo thrown in, other characters have romance.  
**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach, I didn't make it, and I won't make any money from this.  
**Synopsis:** AU. Kurosaki Ichigo is an up and coming martial artist who finds himself in the company of the greatest collegiate fighters Japan has to offer, including: his dangerous captain Nnoitra Jiruga, violent and possessive rival Grimmjow, stubborn friend Abarai Renji, the unnerving Gin Ichimaru, and the mysterious Aizen Sosuke. Finally in the "wide world" of University, he deals with professional and private jealousies, slightly insane acquaintances, friendship, sex and love.

Okay. I did a little research on Japanese universities to pair the characters with reasonable schools. I may be completely wrong.

As far as I have decided, what they practice here is some kind of Kung Fu, and since this is AU, Kung Fu is the Hip Thing to Do. The heart of the story lies in the characters though, and not in the names of kicks and punches. (And kicking ass in school sanctioned competitions that have suspiciously few rules.)

* * *

Life in Bruises - Chapter 1

Kurosaki Isshin unceremoniously dropped two boxes on the floor and put his hands on his hips as he surveyed the tiny dorm room.

"Amazing! A great environment for learning. I think you'll do well here, Ichigo," he said proudly. Ichigo rubbed his forehead in exasperation. His father hadn't stopped gushing the entire car ride and had been entirely too friendly to his future classmates. He could only hope that he would disappear before his roommate showed up and thought craziness ran in the family.

"Okay, you can go now. Everything's here and I can unpack by myself," he told him crossly while placing a standing lamp near his desk.

"Nonsense son! I want to meet your roommate, and we haven't finished our tearful goodbye yet!" Isshin's face became the picture of sadness and the redhead grimaced.

"Dad, if you don't leave now, I'm not going to answer your calls for two months and I won't tell you when my matches are. Got it?"

"You wound me! At least... one last bout with your dear old da before you start your journey into adulthood?" Goatface, being at least slightly insane, had conducted regular attacks on Ichigo for the past ten years, but the boy wasn't having it today. He pushed his father out of the room and halfway down the hallway, and with a deeper grimace than usual told him,

"Go, go! I'll be fine dammit!" He turned and walked away without looking back. The fighter practically collapsed on his futon before noticing the slender boy in the room, arranging a meticulously neat desk. He turned and pushed up his glasses before extending his hand for a shake. Ichigo swallowed. _Shit. He's pretty._

"Ishida Uryuu. Keep the room neat, don't let your sweaty, nasty gi stink up the room, don't let your food mold evolve into sentient creatures, don't let your friends get too comfortable here and don't bother me when I study."

_...That will no longer be a problem._

* * *

THE KYOTO U-NIVERSE

**Monthly Athlete Spotlight:**

The scowling, redheaded and charismatic Kurosaki Ichigo was a freshman in high school when he lost the semi-final match and half a tooth in the National Martial Arts Tournament's youth division. He was a sophomore when he narrowly lost the championship match to a senior with a scholarship in the sport. In his junior year he won all of his matches in club and school, including the championship. (Except for one that he lost by default, after having a severe allergic reaction to a dandelion bouquet that his little sister thoughtfully picked for him.) By his senior year Kurosaki was the king of fighters, and this strange-haired warrior was un-defeated and awarded a full ride to our very own Kyoto University.

As the season's first tournament draws near, expectations are high for this fighting prodigy and the pressure is on for him to continue his illustrious career at the next level. The Kyoto University Martial Arts team's head coach, Urahara Kisuke, says the coaching staff isn't worried.

"Kurosaki's a hard worker- we already see him at the same level as some of our much older boys. I think some of them are even afraid of him!" he laughed with a snap of his trademark fan, while his assistant coach Shihoin Yoruichi stood off to the side, looking peeved and slightly embarrassed. Team captain, junior Nnoitra Jiruga, casually mentioned,

"I took fifth overall last year and we had a lot of other guys on the team did well too. I don't think we should give any individual special treatment over the team."

When asked how he felt about his college debut, Kurosaki commented,

"I don't want to talk to you."

BY MURAKAMI AIKO

Ichigo slowed to a walk as he finished the lap and wiped the sweat from his face, breathing heavily. With his first tournament three days away he enjoyed working off his nerves with extra workouts. He would die before he admitted it, but the high pressure to prove he deserved his scholarship and the intense dislike of his teammates, especially Captain Jiruga, was getting to him. They resented the attention he was getting and the fact that this was only his first year irked them even more. _Well, fuck'em. I'm gonna be what I am, it's no different than dealing with those bored punks at home._

He did have one friend on the team, fellow freshman Abarai Renji, who either didn't know or didn't care about Kurosaki's reputation. Of course, he was almost as ostracized as Ichigo because of his equally outrageous hair and cocky personality, so the beleaguered athlete wasn't winning any points with that association.

"ICHIGOOO! You owe me another four laps!" Rukia called from the stands as she waved a stopwatch in the air.

"I don't owe you shit, shorty!" He yelled back, and grabbed his ear buds from his pocket and put them in. He had met Kuchiki Rukia after the meeting with the academic-athlete liaison (probably the strangest thing he'd ever heard of) when the petite gymnast had walked up to him and punched him in the arm. Used to that kind of greeting, the two hit it off. Their friendship was a mixture of verbal jibes, a little mischief and comfortable silences that everyone else seemed to find odd. The redhead didn't care; he'd always had strange friends in high school: from hyperactive Keigo, ladies man Mizuiro, temperamental Tatsuki, to his best friend the silent giant Chad.

Almost as soon as he'd started his music a glowering Rukia yanked his headphones out.

"Who are you calling shorty, hooligan?" She asked while suppressing a smile. "When I say run, you say 'how much?' When I say jump, you say..." Ichigo rolled his eyes.

"How high," he answered in a bored tone, and then smirked. "I wonder if anyone else knows you're secretly a dominatrix..."

"Ha ha," she said sourly. "See if I help you train again, hoodlum. I suppose I've already paid you back for that, though..." Rukia trailed off thoughtfully, and he looked at her suspiciously.

"What does that-" A hand ruffled his hair rudely.

"Hey punks!" Said a rabidly grinning Renji, dressed for a workout. "What a romantic date you're on," he said with a slight edge to his voice. Ichigo held back the urge to roll his eyes again; Renji had developed a crush on Rukia almost immediately. Abarai still couldn't decide how suspicious he should be when the two were alone, despite Ichigo's assurance that there was nothing like that between them.

"Oh yeah," he replied in a monotone, "I take all the chicks here, so they'll fall to my manly charms when I get sweaty and smelly. Moron," he finished and cuffed him across the head.

"He's totally getting laid tonight," Rukia said confidently, making the true redhead stare. She _did _roll her eyes, before punching him in the arm. "Don't be stupid Renji. Now both of you, run, or Urahara-sensei will know you didn't!" _What a slave driver, _Ichigo thought as he started on the track again, this time next to Renji. _But it's good to have these two around._

* * *

Way too early in the morning, wearing his dark blue and white warm-up suit with his bag slung over his shoulder, Ichigo strode into the tournament venue. He looked around with interest; the atmosphere was buzzing and much more purposeful than his high school tournaments had been. There were people everywhere: parents, fans, judges, student reporters, and other teams. Renji had to pull him along to stop him from gawking. Urahara-sensei led them to their own area to warm up and stretch.

"Preparation, preparation!" he yelled energetically. "I don't want anyone going out there cold, and if you hurt yourself _I'll know why, _" he finished icily, and most of the team shuddered. Ichigo eyed him shrewdly while practicing a few kicks and punches. The rare times when their coach went serious were frightening. _Almost as scary as Yoruichi-sensei. Except only a few of them have gotten private lessons from either of them, and I can testify that they're _both_ more serious and ruthless then than they've ever been with the team._

"GET OFF YOUR ASS!" the dark-skinned coach yelled, and put her foot on the back of a student still putting on his shoes. "I didn't train you to be lazy sloths! I'm expecting results from all of you, but a few in particular, and you know who you are!" Captain Jiruga grinned at that, and Ichigo scowled. Captain Jiruga was always venomous, but there was something sinuous and awful in his fighting style that made the redhead like him even less.

Still obsessed with looking around, the teen's eyes strayed into the main area, picking out who he thought might be a good opponent. For a while no one in particular stood out, and then Kurosaki's jaw dropped. There was an imposing, solid man in uniform with shocking light blue hair and a sneer. The redhead thought in the past few years he'd done enough growing to be called a man... but _that _was a man. Which was a stupid thought that he tried to banish from his mind as quickly as possible.

"Scary, iddn'e?" Renji asked, and Ichigo jumped. "I heard some Waseda guys talking about him. They said he's been somewhere in Europe his first two years of school, and won a bunch of medals'n'shit there. Now he's here going to that private school Ritsumeikan and kickin' everybody's ass," he rattled off with extravagant hand gestures.

"Oh? What's the asshole's name?" He asked, because in spite of the fact that Ichigo was still admiring him, he did look like an asshole.

"Uh, Grimmjow...Jaygersomething weird. Maybe he's from Germany and his family makes Jagermeister," Abarai hypothesized. Kurosaki stared.

"...Don't be stupid, of course his family doesn't make Jagermeister," he told him caustically.

"Don't call me stupid, asshole!" Renji scowled at him.

"Don't call me an asshole, stupid!" Ichigo shot back.

"I'm gonna shove my fist so far up-"

"Abarai! Kurosaki!" Yoruichi called lazily, and they both looked vaguely contrite but mostly disgruntled. "You can beat each other up after you've beaten up everyone _else, _okay?"

"Yes sensei," they both responded, and stayed silent until she walked away.

"I hope Grimmjow's in your bracket," Renji muttered.

"Don't be so bitter," he replied with a smirk. "I'm sure I'd kick his ass anyway," he said, sparing one last glance at his new possible rival.

In too little time, Ichigo stood just outside the mat, minutes away from his first match. He jumped a few times and shook out his arms, psyching himself up. Nnoitra walked up next to him, playing perfectly the role of a Captain helping his new teammate get ready._ Of course, what he's gonna do is drip poison, _he thought with disgust. People like him fed off others' pain.

"Nervous, pussy?" The captain asked with a grin.

"Fuck off, Jiruga," Kurosaki replied, grimacing while stretching.

"That's _Captain _Jiruga, freshman," he said darkly, leaning in uncomfortably close.

"With all due respect captain, eat shit," he said calmly, though still wearing his trademark scowl.

"I'm glad you said that Kurosaki. 'Cause now your freak-haired, cocky ass is going down and I've got a great reason to teach you a lesson," Nnoitra told him quietly, then clapped his hand on his shoulder with another grin. "I'm sure you won't choke," he whispered and walked away.

_Of course I won't choke. I haven't had a challenge in over two years._

* * *

Okay, maybe he was feeling cocky at that point, grinning like mad after winning two matches with ease. Winning his next match meant Ichigo was in the quarterfinals, and he wasn't expecting anything tough until the semi-finals. Luckily Nnoitra was in the other bracket, so if he did well enough he could drop the captain on his ass in the final match. He felt focused and sure.

A grim-faced Renji walking towards him gave an inkling that he might not stay that way.

"You lose or something?" Ichigo asked in what he liked to think of as a sympathetic-but-manly way. His teammate shook his head. "Then who died?"

"I didn't mean it when I said it, y'know," he muttered while scratching his head sheepishly.

"I had a hunch you didn't want to shove your fist up my ass, I'm glad it wasn't a vain hope," Kurosaki told him sarcastically.

"Not that! I mean... Your next fight. It's Grimmjow Jeagerjacques and he just KOed his last opponent," Renji let him know, his voice serious. Ichigo regarded him. He'd thought that if this happened, he might feel nervous or unsure of himself. Instead he was filled with a new energy; he was calmly excited. _There's no chance I can't do this._

"Relax. I know I've got this," he told him with sincerity.

"What? You can't know that, you haven't even seen him _fight, _Ichigo," Abarai told him sternly, serious in the way that he only got about fighting.

"Well, he hasn't seen me fight either, Renji," he answered with a grin. "So just keep the faith and watch if you get the chance." His friend still looked worried, but he couldn't let himself think about it.

Twenty minutes later Kurosaki Ichigo was standing outside the mat again, observing his opponent Grimmjow Jeagerjacques. Closer now, Ichigo could tell his eyes were an even more vibrant shade of blue than his hair. Grimmjow turned and seemed to notice Ichigo for the first time; he looked him up and down, slowly enough that the redhead felt a strange sensation following his gaze. A teammate murmured something to the blue-haired fighter, and he looked back at Ichigo and let out a laugh. Kurosaki clenched his jaw and looked away. His blood was boiling, _how dare he dismiss me._

"Don't worry kid, I won't kill ya!" the fighter catcalled. "S'against the rules after all!" Ichigo stayed silent. He didn't want to give the asshole the satisfaction of provoking him. Grimmjow walked closer to him wearing a smirk. "Accidents do happen though," he drawled, " bound to occur when they let in fragile young things like yourself." Pride pricked, Ichigo took a careful breath before looking at Jeagerjacques.

"I'm eighteen," he informed him while his scowl deepened.

"Oh, well you don't look a day over 16 if you were worried about showin' your age," he said while studying Kurosaki, knowing he was needling him but not truly stoking his temper. So he took it a step further. "What's funny is that I know a bit about who ya are, and everyone is gonna take your loss today as a clear as day sign that you're a fluke. A flash a' brilliance that faded right outta high school, but most importantly, a failed investment," he told him confidently, as though he knew the absolute truth of the matter. His tone made anger fizzle hot just beneath Ichigo's skin, flushing his cheeks. What Grimmjow had said shouldn't have affected him this much, but he was flaring with anger in a way he couldn't remember experiencing before.

"Don't act like you're going to win," he spat out venomously. Jeagerjacques' grin deepened; it held a hint of something dark and ugly now.

"Baby has a temper?" He taunted and finally Ichigo turned to face him.

"Listen you son of a bitch, you're underestimating me and you'll pay for it in the match. I'm gonna kick your ass six ways from Sunday," he snarled. Grimmjow laughed for seconds that seemed to last forever.

"Try me. You're mine, prick, an' you'll see that soon enough," he said, and walked away still wearing that vicious grin. The redhead felt an urge to go after him right then, but they were about two seconds away from a citation for unsportsmanlike conduct if the burning look from the official meant anything. So he shook the feeling off and stepped onto the mat across from Jeagerjacques. They couldn't say anything to each other, but Grimmjow's smirk could drive anyone to kill, and Ichigo's look could do it. They bowed to each other, and the fight began.

The strange fighter from Europe wasted no time in launching a kick at Ichigo's head. He ducked and pivoted to return a kick at Grimmjow's side, which hit and seemed not to affect him at all. They exchanged punches, blocks and kicks, but there was a major difference between them that made the teen's nerves rise. When his attacks landed Jeagerjacques seemed to barely feel it; when he attacked Ichigo, Ichigo felt like he'd been smashed into a brick wall. Their speed increased, cutting the time to read each other's moves down to a fraction. Every moment, more and more, Kurosaki felt like he was fighting for his life. The audience around them grew, quiet with fascination. He blocked mid-level kick with his leg then leapt up and clipped Grimmjow's chin with another kick, the hit giving him a thrill._Two years of no challenges, now I'm thrown into the fire and..._A fist connected with his jaw. The redhead punched back but Grimmjow grabbed his arm and threw him over his head onto the floor, and he swore as the breath left his body. _Fuck! _Rolling to his feet, he blocked his opponent's punch with crossed arms and pushed him back. Another punch and Ichigo moved to avoid it, but he didn't know it was a feint until a foot crashed against his head.


	2. Chapter 2

Note: Nnoitra is actually like 7'5" and Ichigo 5'9", but to keep Nnoitra from being a _complete_ freak of nature, here he is 6'8" and Ichigo has grown to 5'11" ish.

* * *

Chapter 2

It was refreshing. Ritsumeikan was one of the most boring places he'd ever been, and as soon as Grimmjow had the all clear to go to a public school he'd started the transfer process immediately. But today almost made up for the past month of dreariness. He'd heard the fuss about a punk from Kyoto and hoped he wasn't like the boring, all business asses like he'd been fighting lately. He wanted a challenge, he wanted someone to piss off, and he wanted someone worth conquering.

When he saw the redhead standing there with his eyebrows pinned down, frown on his face, he'd been intrigued. Even if he was a terrible fighter, he might at least be interesting. A pretty thing, with a body Grimm decided he liked after some intense studying, which he didn't mind letting the kid notice. Though he had to be eighteen to be there, there was definitely something young about him. When a teammate let him know _that _was Kurosaki Ichigo, he couldn't help but laugh. When the redhead bridled at the sound, he knew he had a winner.

The insults wouldn't stop flying from his mouth after that. He savored every reaction, knowing he was the loss of Kurosaki's control. It was the arrogance that really pushed Jeagerjacques further; he couldn't stand that stupid punk thinking he was better, because he wasn't. He realized it soon enough.

The fight had been great. Better than the one with the tall, long-haired freak in the final even. Kurosaki was good, but not so good that Grimmjow didn't thrash him. The sight of him lying beaten on the ground below him was a memory he planned to repeat.

* * *

Kurosaki Ichigo groaned quietly and opened his eyes in a fluorescent-lit room that smelled like medicine. _No. No, I didn't. This doesn't happen to me. _He shot up from the padded table he was laying on and examined his surroundings.

"Welcome to the land of the living, dumbshit," a familiar and brash voice informed him, getting another groan. There was a slow, throbbing ache in his head giving him another clue to what happened.

"Kurosaki-san, please don't sit up so fast, you might have a concussion," said a sweet-voiced girl who walked over to him.

"Who're you?" he asked dumbly. She had long red-brown hair, concerned gray eyes and a disconcertingly large chest, which he refused to look at.

"Well that's rude Ichigo," Renji said dryly and flicked the side of his head.

"Fuck, ow!" He clutched his head and glared at Renji. The girl gave him a disapproving look as well, before giving her patient a shy smile.

"I'm Inoue Orihime," she said, absently rubbing her left arm. "I'm an assistant trainer for Kyoto; I was supposed to watch you until you woke up." Ichigo grimaced and slowly turned his gaze at Renji, preparing for a terrible answer.

"Then... I really did..." Abarai nodded slowly.

"Victory by KO. ...Sorry. But you were asking for it, why were you so cocky, stupid!" He asked angrily. "I told you to be careful and you go out there with guns blazin!" He then adopted a falsetto, "'Oh, look at me, I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, check out my hair! I'm Kurosaki Ichigo, I don't know _how_ to lose!'"

"Is there any other way to go out?" Ichigo asked with lopsided grin, before lying back down after a wave of dizziness. _How humiliating. _

"_All _of his opponents have been in here for ice packs at the least," Inoue said disapprovingly and held one to the rapidly forming bruise on the downed athlete's jaw. "...Then again, so have yours," she remembered.

"Tch... At least Grimmjow's out there now, and is hopefully poundin' Jiruga into the ground too," Renji told them wistfully. Cheers erupted outside the room. "And it sounds like someone just won. I'll let you know, okay?" He said as he left the room with a wave. Ichigo raised his hand in goodbye, then sighed, grateful for some quiet. But right after Renji left, a moon-faced girl with long black hair stuck her head into the room.

"Kurosaki Ichigo! I'm Murakami Aiko with the Kyoto U-niverse, I was wondering if I could get a quote from-"

"Get outta here!" he yelled, and the girl scampered out.

"She seemed nice, Kurosaki-san," Inoue told Ichigo with mild disapproval, and gently moved the ice pack from his jaw to his head. He shot her a look.

"You don't understand. She's been _stalking _me," he explained with exasperation.

"But she works for the paper, right? Maybe you're just not used to all this attention," she ventured cautiously.

"It ain't _good journalism_ to know where my room and house are, or when my classes are, or who all my high school coaches were! Most of the time she doesn't even ask for a quote, she just..._watches,"_" he explained with vehement hand gestures. Inoue stared.

"...I know a good lawyer?"

* * *

Ichigo lurched into his room in a t-shirt and sweatpants, hair still wet and spiky from his shower. He felt bruised in body and ego and knew it wouldn't go unnoticed, so he waited for a jibe from his roommate. Not one to disappoint, Ishida turned in his seat to inspect him.

"I see you've been beaten thoroughly. You better not be moaning about it all night, because-" Inoue followed Ichigo into the room and Uryuu's mouth snapped shut. The redhead collapsed onto his futon with a grin.

"Hi, you must be Ishida Uryuu, Kurosaki-kun's roommate. I'm Inoue Orihime, a trainer for the martial arts team." The bespectacled boy cleared his throat.

"Ah, pleasure to meet you, Inoue-san..." he said politely.

"You too," she responded with a genuine smile. "I'm here because I think Kurosaki-kun has a concussion, and it would be really nice if you could wake him up every once in a while tonight, and ask him these questions to check his symptoms." Inoue handed him a sheet of paper, which he immediately inspected. Then she turned to Ichigo, "You should sit out practice tomorrow just to be careful, but if you don't have a problem answering these questions you probably don't have a concussion, and should be fine after that. Is that okay, Ishida-san?"

"It shouldn't be a problem," he responded with a small, close-mouthed smile.

"Okay! It was really nice to meet you. Get better, see you two later!" She smiled again and left. Ishida watched her leave and adjusted his glasses.

"You know her well?" He asked.

"We did some talking on the ride back."

"...I believe I should attend some of your matches," he said casually. Ichigo laughed.

"You're pre-med ain't ya? I bet bein' a trainer would be great on your record for grad school," he suggested and the dark-haired boy regarded his roommate with raised brows.

"Maybe you're not as block-headed as you look, Kurosaki," he said seriously. It occurred to Ichigo that Inoue was really the only person he knew who bothered with honorifics. He wondered how it was that he met friends as rude as he was.

* * *

The following day at practice Ichigo sat against the wall doing homework and watching his teammates drill. They'd been condescending and smug in their condolences for his early loss, except Nnoitra, who regular sent him searing looks of hatred. It turned out that he _had_ lost to Grimmjow in the final bout and was looking to take that frustration out on Ichigo. He closed his eyes, tired from last night's fragmented sleep, and mentally prepared himself for a harder day tomorrow.

_You just had to provoke him didn't you? Had to satisfy your pride to a guy almost a foot taller than you. _The freshman was sure he could hold his own against Jiruga in a fair fight, but what would the psycho do when he was angry? At least Ishida had assured him that he didn't have a concussion. He opened his eyes and saw Renji throw a sophomore over his hip and whoop. Ichigo bit back a laugh.

The next day they were warming up and waiting for their unusually late coaches to arrive. Twenty-five minutes after practice should have started, a happy Urahara and a bored Yoruichi finally walked in.

"Everyone, everyone! Gather 'round, I have a thrilling announcement," he yelled, waving his fan. The team clustered at the front door of the practice room, curious to what had grabbed their coaches' attention. "We have a new student joining the team! He should have been with us a few weeks ago, but there was a delay in his transfer paperwork," he explained. Ichigo felt a curious sense of foreboding. "You can come in now!" he called.

"I don't get what's with all this _theatrical _shit," the student's gruff voice complained. Ichigo's jaw clenched and Renji punched his arm several times in disbelief.

"_You_!" both Ichigo and Nnoitra accused the blue-haired, blue-eyed man that walked in, whose face lit with a malicious grin.

"Ha! This is your school? No fuckin' way, this is choice!" He laughed cruelly. _Unbelievable. I can't handle listening to this fucker every day!_

"Welcome Grimmjow Jeagerjacques! Remember, our official policy is to limit crude language," he rattled off without much sincerity.

"Just don't do it around the department heads," Yoruichi added with a yawn.

"Well! For those of you don't know, Grimmjow was raised here in Japan until the 7th grade, before moving to Germany for several years."

"I _told _you he was from Germany," Renji hissed.

"Shut up," Ichigo hissed back.

"He won both the national club and school titles in his first two years of University," Urahara continued, "and also placed 5th in last year's European Championship's 18-24 division. I hope you are all pleased to see him," then he added an edge to his voice, "because he will be a significant contributor to our already prestigious reputation." he smiled again. "Kay?"

Many of the team went up to greet him, but Ichigo, Renji, Nnoitra and his freaky friend Tesla held back. Ichigo tried to restrain his glare but couldn't hold it back entirely, not when Grimmjow kept looking at him with really unsettling grins, as if... _As if I'm prey, _he thought. He walked away when Yoruichi announced they would be sparring that day.

"Do _not _go full force today kiddies! Grimmjow, I want you to sit out and just observe things today, see how we work. You can get in the mix tomorrow," she informed him. He grunted in response but didn't fight her on it.

"Hey Kurosaki!" Nnoitra spun him around, grinning from ear to ear. "I don't think you've had the pleasure of sparring with me yet." Ah, here it was. Do or die.

"I'd enjoy that Captain Jiruga," the redhead replied. His teeth nearly broke on the word "captain." They took their places across from each other, and Ichigo could see their newest teammate settle against the wall nearby. _I guess he'd get off watching two people he beat fight each other. _Jiruga and Kurosaki bowed.

Nnoitra began immediately with a spin kick that his rival blocked with one of his own, which Ichigo followed up with a series of high kicks. The taller man grabbed his leg on the last kick and flipped him. The redhead landed on one hand and foot, and was standing up when Nnoitra grabbed the collar of his gi and yanked him violently to the ground on his back. Before he could jump to his feet, the captain was on top of him wailing on him with punches that drove the breath from Ichigo's lungs.

"Fuck, fuck!" He gasped. His arms were raised to block the punches from his face but it was open season to the crazed fighter above him. Nnoitra had wrapped his legs around and under Kurosaki's knees, effectively pinning him.

"_Jiruga_!" Urahara shouted and ran over to stop him. Nnoitra ignored him and wrenched one of Ichigo's arms away to land a hit to his face. He was pulling back for a second when Grimmjow reached him first, wrenched him off Kurosaki and threw him backwards.

"You little bitch!" Nnoitra spat at Jeagerjacques. Urahara hauled him to his feet and away from the main group to yell at him. Loudly. Meanwhile Ichigo's rescuer extended his hand to help him up, eyes dark. Ichigo just looked up at him in confusion. _Why the hell would he help me? _Grimmjow rolled his eyes in impatience and pulled the dazed redhead up by the front of his clothes.

"_What_?" he demanded irritably when Ichigo still stared at him. "If you don't stop that I'm gonna kick your ass worse than he did!" He punctuated it with a shove.

"All right, all right! Damn..." he muttered and rubbed his face; it was wet. He pulled his hand away and there was blood. "Son of a bitch, crazy mother_fucker-_" He kept cursing as he left for the training room.

"Kurosaki-kun!" Orihime said mournfully when she saw him. Ichigo was smug to see that Uryuu had already taken his suggestion and started working with Inoue.

"You did go one day without being hurt, I suppose that has merit," Ishida informed him dryly. "Of course, you didn't _practice_ that day..." Inoue handed him a towel, and he pressed it just under the bridge of Ichigo's nose.

"Ow!"

"Hold that, and tilt your head forward," he instructed.

"Where's the head trainer?" Ichigo demanded and held the cloth. The two seemed to know what they were doing, but it was worrisome if their boss was never around.

"Someone on the tennis team may have broken an ankle, so he's taking care of that. We can reach him if something serious happens here," Ishida told him mildly, in his own way telling his roommate that he was offended by the implication.

"What happened? You look like..." Inoue trailed off.

"Like someone beat the shit outta me," he finished with a sigh. "'Cause somebody did."

"Who?" She asked. "He's in trouble now, right?" Ichigo gave her a small smile; her concern was sweet, and it definitely wasn't something he was used to.

"The captain, and yeah. ...Grimmjow helped me, actually. The bastard was about to break my face when he pulled him off."

"Why is _he_ here? Did he suddenly turn all sweet and cuddly?" Ishida asked incredulously.

"No, he's really an asshole," Kurosaki insisted. "That's why this is so confusing."

"It doesn't sound like he is. Maybe he's just a put-on-a-show kinda guy, Kurosaki-kun," Inoue said thoughtfully.

"I dunno. I just wish he wasn't here, making things complicated." The bloodied teen sighed heavily.

* * *

THE KYOTO U-NIVERSE

**A Fresh Face on the Horizon!**

Kyoto's Martial Arts team faced ironic and heartbreaking losses this Sunday at their first tourney. Shining hopeful Kurosaki Ichigo, a spotlight athlete, lost his third match and failed to qualify for even the quarterfinals. When asked about his fights, Kurosaki answered

"Get out of here."

His captain put a different spin on the situation, saying,

"This is about the level we expect from our incoming freshman, so it's fine. Just because he didn't make it to the quarters doesn't mean he should feel ashamed." His defeat is also tempered by the fact that he lost to the eventual tournament winner, the devastating blue whirlwind of pain that was newcomer Grimmjow Jeagerjacques, who also defeated our own Captain Nnoitra Jiruga in the title fight. Jiruga fought valiantly, but he just wasn't prepared for that smooth West European style.

Hailing from Japan, then Germany, then Japan again, Jeagerjacques is the proud owner of multiple national titles and has prominent professional fighters excited about his potential, as well as a few modeling agencies. Rumors abound that he comes from a powerful and influential family, which brings us the mysterious and fortuitous irony of his next move.

Jeagerjacques has recently left the prestigious and private Ritsumeikan University and officially transferred to Kyoto University. He will participate without any transfer sit-out period with permission from his previous school, a move that stunned insiders considering his obvious talent.

When asked about his upcoming season here, Jeagerjacques responded, "Get the f*ck out of my face."

BY MURAKAMI AIKO


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

The past week of practice was the most agonizing of Ichigo's life. Even hell week at the beginning of the season wasn't been so awful, though for different reasons. Nnoitra was suspended from their next tournament for his outburst and kept well away from the redhead, but Ichigo could feel daggers being glared at his back every day. Just as bad was Grimmjow, whose gaze had a decidedly stranger quality. Ichigo couldn't decide if that feeling was real, or just his interpretation, and which would be worse. Jeagerjacques also decided to never miss a chance to argue with Kurosaki, like at that moment on the coach bus to their next tournament.

"I don't get it," Ichigo complained and rubbed the side of his head. "In a style that allows throws, an axe kick is an open invitation to wind up on your back," he explained to Grimmjow. His exasperation with the man next to him was warring with the fact that this time they were at least debating something useful. Also, Ichigo looked forward to explaining he was completely 100% right and rubbing it in the bastard's face.

"Every kick with extra power carries the risk," Jeagerjacques argued. "Y'can slam any bitch into the ground with it. And y'can _break their collarbones,_" he said enthusiastically.

"You aren't _supposed_ to," Ichigo told him, unamused.

"But that's half the fuckin' fun! It's sanctioned! Legal bone breakin' Kurosaki!" Ichigo sighed heavily at his bloodthirstiness. He wanted to win as badly, but with less...destruction. "..._Legal bone breaking,_" he emphasized again like his teammate hadn't understood him. "Don't act as if ya don't like hitting people. This 'holier than thou' shit pisses me off."

_It's not "holier than thou" shit…_the redhead grumbled silently.

"Never mind, it doesn't matter, the kicks just too damn slow," he replied dismissively.

"Kurosaki, when's the last time you fought anybody faster 'an you?'Sides me, a' course," Grimmjow added as he placed a hand against his chest with mock humility. The redhead shot him a look of distaste, before he actually thought about it. Jeagerjacques grinned when the realization hit his face.

"...Okay, well..." Ichigo trailed off. _Dammit, can't I even win a fucking argument! _"...Why the fuck are you talking to me?" he demanded suddenly. Now was as good a time as any to unravel the mystery, because Grimmjow was starting to drive him crazy in more ways than one.

"I'm arguing with ya. Way different," Grimmjow protested with disgust.

"Do you have to sit next to me?" Ichigo's eyebrows drew tighter together in puzzlement. It would have been much easier to sit next to Renji as planned and probably, odd as it sounded, more peaceful. Being less peaceful than Abarai was a mean feat.

"I'm a seat over, don't act like I like you," Jeagerjacques said forcefully, and crossed his arms against his chest defensively. _Prick._

"You two bicker like a married couple," Renji said, leaning over from the seats in front of them, looking cross about being left out of the conversation.

"Don't be stupid, Renji," Ichigo said vehemently. _Completely not funny._

"Go fuck your mother," Grimmjow offered like a lighthearted suggestion. Abarai scowled darkly and began a comeback, but Kurosaki turned back to the blue-haired man, not ready to let his question go.

"Really, though. When we met you acted like you wanted to grind me to dust, so what the hell?"

"I _still_ wanna grind ya inta dust," he replied like it was obvious, and Ichigo glared. _I know that much. You still do it in practice you son of a bitch. _Grimmjow sighed heavily and finally said, in an aggravated manner, "You're the only half-decent fighter on the team, I don't wanna talk t'pussies."

"What!" Renji stood from his seat, incredulous.

"Talk to me in a couple years, Abarai. You know a lotta shit but you haven't mastered any of it yet, which makes ya a dark horse at best. Also, you're an annoying piece of shit," Jeagerjacques' intonation implied that the last part was the most important.

"I better get to fight you today, 'cause I-"

"Bitch bitch bitch," he flapped his hand like it was talking. Renji's face was turning almost as red as hair in anger. "You're nothin'. Go back and suck on your mother's-"

"Quit being such a dick Grimmjow," Ichigo told him heatedly. He looked startled, then smirked.

"What's 'not being a dick'?"

"I mean it," Kurosaki replied calmly. "Don't talk to my friends like that." _Come on, _he thought. _Give me a reason to really hurt you. _After that, Grimmjow studied him with a look of disgruntled curiosity before finally conceding. A little.

"...I'll see what I can do," he muttered. Renji and Ichigo looked at each other, confused and surprised, but ultimately Abarai just shrugged.

"...Sorry 'bout that," Ichigo said quietly.

"Not your fault," Abarai replied gruffly. "But you better get me in on those private lessons, eh?" His friend grinned.

"I'll see what I can do." _I'm not about to lose points by telling him Urahara was already going to bring him in. Or by telling him he'll be practicing with Nnoitra._

"Oh, and I get to wail on ya like Jiruga in front of everybody too, so I can make some better friends on this team," Renji added casually. "He enjoyed a real surge in popularity after that; I think I'd like that."

"This barely had anything to do with me, you opportunistic fuck," Ichigo said indignantly.

"A real friend would have my back with this," Renji prodded. "What's a black eye or two between buddies, eh?" he asked with a cocky smirk.

"A real friend would know how close he is to waking up without a ponytail," Kurosaki threatened.

"A real friend would know he's about to get his balls chopped off," Renji said through his teeth, glaring at his friend.

At the front of the bus, Urahara sighed heavily and leaned against his assistant's shoulder.

"Oh Yoruichi, how did we end up with such hormonal children this year?" he asked mournfully. Yoruichi smirked indulgently.

"If it makes you feel better Kisuke, I think some of them are just emotionally disturbed."

* * *

Grimmjow had been sitting silently almost the entire ride back to Kyoto, staring forward in confused shock. _Really, we all did well. Especially him, so... _Ichigo thought to himself.

"I...lost?" he finally asked no one in particular. Ichigo gave Renji a look before answering,

"Yes," he replied bluntly. He was still bitter about losing to Grimmjow, again, and wasn't about to pull any punches for the sake of his ego. Kurosaki guessed the shock was so bad because no one had ever heard of Gin Ichimaru before, and no one had suspected the off-putting white-haired fighter would be so good. He was quick, exact, and near impossible to read. Ichigo felt like he should console his teammate more, but decided that would imply he cared and would probably just earn him glares anyway.

"...I lost," Grimmjow confirmed. Indeed, Renji had lost to Gin, Ichigo had lost to Grimmjow, and Grimmjow had lost to Gin. The school would call them successful, but personally it wasn't entirely satisfying.

"This drama-queen business is really taking away from how well I did," Renji said crossly. "Which was really well, by the way."

"But I fucking lost!" Jeagerjacques repeated, throwing his hands up in exasperation. "That's not possible! I'm the _best!"_

"Get over yourself," Abarai demanded.

"_I'm supposed to be the best!_"

_Again with this shit. You're not the only one who needs to be the best. I…_

"Other people would like to stew in their loss too, thanks," Ichigo muttered. He remembered when Grimmjow had been declared the victor and the dark, joyful grin on his face, and wondered why winning was so important to him. _It's not just the winning, it's the fight, it's the dominance. How does a desire like that become so deep? ...Why the hell should I care?_

"...That's right. I kicked your ass. I still have that, "Grimmjow affirmed to himself and took a deep, calming breath. Kurosaki scowled deeply.

"I'm so glad I could help you out," he said sarcastically.

"I don't need your help," Grimmjow shot back.

"You're such a fucking dick!" Kurosaki snarled.

"At least I don't _suck_ dick!" The blue-haired man growled, gripping his arm rests like they were the only thing stopping him from ripping Ichigo's throat out.

"In your _dreams_, asshole!" The redhead was half out of his seat, leaning closer to Grimmjow, daring him to start a fight. The barb was a little too close to home, and if a stereotypical violent reaction would reinforce that he was straight, Ichigo would put on an act that would win him an Oscar.

"_Jeagerjacques_," drawled an annoyed and threatening voice from the front of the bus. "Sit across the aisle or I _will _give you a timeout like a little baby," Yoruichi informed him, still facing forward and waving her hand dismissively.

"Will I get a spankin' too?" Grimmjow asked lecherously, grinning.

"To borrow a phrase from Kurosaki, _in your dreams,_" she replied flatly.

"Feisty, I like that," he said with a smirk, but sat down across the aisle.

"Any more comments, boy, and my revenge will be so creative and destructive you'll sit down at the end of the day, staring at the wall and wondering, even as your life falls to pieces, 'how did she do it?' And not knowing will be the thing that pushes you over the brink of madness." Grimmjow let out a "ha!" but didn't make any more inappropriate remarks. Kurosaki finally sat down and relaxed.

"…_I_ did really well, would anyone like to congratulate me?" Renji asked, indignant, making his friend look at the ceiling and sigh, as if he were praying for patience.

"I'll tell Rukia to do it, I'm sure she'll be proud," Ichigo told him. He leaned back and closed his eyes; he was tired. Fighting was already exhausting and a healthy dose of arguing didn't exactly restore his energy. "Why don't you ask her out already?" Renji turned pink.

"Because she likes you," he replied glumly. _Not this again, _he thought at the same time with exasperation. He must have told the redhead that he wasn't interested in the girl a hundred times.

"Not like that she doesn't. You two talk like you've known each other your whole lives, just go for it," he told him with a wave.

"Oh, so now I should take advice from Mr. Never-Had-a-Girlfriend?"Abarai asked sarcastically, earning him a middle finger from his friend. Grimmjow looked very discreetly over at Ichigo.

"I may not have a girlfriend, but I have common sense," he pointed out. "And don't go shouting that shit around," he said with a yawn.

"You might be right," Renji said darkly, "Possibly. Maybe."

"Don't be a pussy," Grimmjow offered. "Women like a man with confidence." Renji started a retort, but Ichigo cut him off.

"I am trying to sleep, _don't start._"

* * *

Three days later

Another fight where Grimmjow stood above Ichigo. Urahara told the redhead it was a good effort, but he just didn't land enough hits; Jeagerjacques' grin was sick and triumphant.

_He gets off on it, beating me. _The insufferable man was smug and awful when he defeated anyone, but it was different for the redhead, always different. Worst of all it awakened something terrifying in Ichigo he didn't want to acknowledge; a thirst for blood and a bone-deep desire he wouldn't name. _No one should be…attracted…to that sort of thing. It isn't right._

All the same, Ichigo wanted some of that feeling, some of that twisted joy that Grimmjow radiated whenever he won. He wanted to smack the cocky grin off the bastard's face and show him that no one had the right to feel that much above anyone else. Kurosaki hated him.

_I hate him. I hate him and I want him._

Maybe if he worked hard enough today, he would forget.

* * *

2 hours later

"So sleepy..." Ichigo yawned. He'd stayed up most of last night doing a paper, and that day he had three classes, regular practice, and the private practice that they were walking back from now. Grimmjow rolled his eyes and steered the redhead in the right direction for the third time. "Nono, cut through the park, it's better," he said sleepily and veered to the scenic and less lit path.

"Fuck, why?" Grimmjow asked with a scowl. "Looks like a nice place t'get mugged," he said while looking around.

"Grimmjow, I know _Kung Fu_," Ichigo told him and struck a fighting pose, making the blue-haired man bark a laugh. "I'll protect you," he said in a deep narrator-type voice before staggering back into a walk. Grimmjow turned his next laugh into a lengthy cough to preserve his aloof exterior. "You hafta take a long walk after a workout so y'don't get as sore," Ichigo continued, accompanying the explanation with hand gestures. Jeagerjacques didn't know whether to be annoyed by his silliness or just laugh. He went with a "snrk." "I always take this way."

"Anyone told ya you get loopy when you're tired?" Grimmjow asked and shoved his hands in his pockets. This really wasn't a productive use of his time. He didn't like Kurosaki, so why had they been paired at private lessons? "Absolutely off the wall."

"It has been...proposed," Ichigo replied with a silly grin. _That grin bothers me, _Jeagerjacques thought. _Too happy. Too interested. Too…charming. _They continued down the winding path, lined with trees just starting to turn colors, benches at ponds, and very occasionally a lamp post. It was calming; maybe Kurosaki wasn't insane. They remained silent for a time, until suddenly the redhead asked, "So why are you such an ass_?_"

"_What?_"

"Really, c'mon. You hafta win. And y'can't just win, y'hafta dominate, and..." He paused. "Didya think I couldn't see it? It's vicious, Grimmjow. It's awful," he said, looking ahead, not meeting the man's stare. Grimmjow didn't know how to answer, because no one had ever asked him anything like that before. Not seriously anyway_. _They kept walking and he kept quiet. Ichigo looked over at him from time to time and it did look like he was thinking, if unhappily so. The redhead wanted an answer, but the silence was comfortable, or at least conducive to sleeping while walking.

The inquisitive athlete was so out of it, he didn't realize where they were going until they were walking into Grimmjow's room. "Why'm I here?" He asked with consternation.

"Fuck if I know, you followed me," Jeagerjacques told him while falling back onto his futon. As a junior, he was allowed to live alone in a slightly smaller room than the doubles. Curious, Ichigo looked in and was surprised by its bareness. There was a lofted bed with a blue comforter, a gray futon, a TV, a lamp, and a picture frame on his desk. No other decoration. "Are you gonna stare or are you gonna come in?" Grimmjow demanded gruffly. After a moment of inner debate Ichigo stepped in and dropped his bag on the floor. Intrigued by the only seemingly unnecessary thing in the room, he picked up the picture frame and inspected it. "Be careful with that!" Grimmjow commanded, sitting up at attention to make sure nothing happened to it

"Your family?" Ichigo asked, though it was obvious. A solemn little blue-haired boy of maybe fourteen in front, a beautiful woman with pink-blonde hair, and a handsome young man with long blonde hair with his hand on the little one's shoulder, quietly proud.

"My mother and my half-brother," he muttered. Kurosaki was curious about where his father was, but he wasn't so insensitive to ask. He remembered those kinds of questions and how the hurt never quite faded.

"Why not a more recent picture?" He inquired as he set the picture down. Grimmjow looked at the window sulkily, before changing the subject inexpertly.

"...Wanna watch a movie?" He asked in a strangely defensive tone.

"Huh?" Kurosaki looked at him and saw someone wound tight, ready to attack or maybe run at the slightest sign. _But…That's something a wounded animal does. Or someone's who's scared, but he couldn't be._

"Movies. I have some," he said, still defensive as though "huh" had been a criticism. Somehow through his sleepy haze, it occurred to Ichigo with a pang; the blue-haired boy was the same then as now. He had no friends. There was nothing in his life, so there was nothing to put in this room.

Whatever this thing was, it could be the closest thing Grimmjow had to a friendship. _So maybe he isn't a terrible person. Maybe he just doesn't know any better._

"..." The redhead fell back onto the futon too. "Yeah, sure."

Grimmjow was Grimmjow so they watched an action/horror movie, but despite the explosions and screams, Ichigo fell asleep half-sitting half-lying down only a quarter of the way through. Jeagerjacques grumbled once he noticed. _Do I kick the bastard out? _He inspected his teammate and saw how tired he still looked. There was an intense war in his mind between being mortally offended and giving him a break.

In the end, he pulled Ichigo to lay the full length of the futon and went to bed. He would hurt him tomorrow.

* * *

"Mmm..." Ichigo stretched out luxuriously and scratched lazily at his chest. He felt so refreshed and warm, _Like I've been asleep for ten hours. I haven't felt so rested since school started. _He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, then shot upright with a gasp. This was not the smell of his room. This was not his room, his bed, or his blanket. This was Grimmjow's room, on his futon, with a couple of sweat-shirts thrown on top of him.

"Mornin' fuckface," Jeagerjacques greeted him from his desk with a wave of his pencil.

"Why am I here?" Ichigo asked with growing sense of horror. What didn't he remember? Did he drink? Did he drink and… _do_ something and that was why he was in the bastard's room?

"You don't remember?" Grimmjow responded with a quirked eyebrow. "Damn. Y'were asleep on your feet and followed me back here by mistake. I let you crash," Grimmjow informed him. " I hope y'enjoyed slobberin' on my couch cause I'm gonna make ya pay for it in about two hours." The panic calmed gradually as he began to remember. Gears slowly turned in the redhead's mind...then clicked into place.

"...Two hours? _What time is it!_" Ichigo asked, the horror complete.

"'Round four," he answered calmly.

"'Four! I had class today you asshole!" Kurosaki rushed to grab his bag.

"Not my job t'wake you up," Jeagerjacques said with a shrug. "'Sides, it's not like anyone but you and your hoity-toity roommate go to class all the time. Most people are doin' things like 'going out' and 'having fun.'"

"Everyone who saw me yesterday is going to think this is a walk of shame," he replied accusingly. _I don't need that right now. _

"It'd be more like a 'hey look I scored' walk, but whatever. You obviously need to get laid, sex ain't the boogeyman." Ichigo held up his hand.

"Not if it looks like I scored with _you. _Thanks for letting me sleep here, just...just shut up," he finished lamely, and left. Grimm watched him go with a frown, thinking,

…_Why'd he have to sound so disgusted?_


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter is a bit lemony, so if you're under 18 or squicked out by boysex, don't read it! 

* * *

Chapter 4

THE KYOTO U-NIVERSE

**Campus Safety Alert**

Kyoto has always had one of the lowest crime rates in Japan, a place where even women can travel securely alone at night. The University campus has been considered a paragon of safety with well-staffed security patrols and a generally peaceful student body.

However, in the past few years suspicious activity on campus has begun to rise, from the discovery of dead birds and the frightening evisceration and display of larger animals, to break-ins and thefts of academic facilities. Many a student has taken a stroll through the campus parks or surrounding area only to discover the gruesome remnants of a stray cat or dog. Though animal mutilation is a warning sign to possibly more violent crimes, all campus security can do is remain watchful.

**Has this developing sociopath taken the next step? **

Over the past week and a half there has been an alarming increase in violent crime. One man was mugged and required care at the campus health facilities. Two women reported being assaulted and one required hospitalization. The second woman has since been released but is still recovering. Police say the victims have not been able to provide any detailed descriptions of their attacker, as one suffered a moderate concussion and the others reported the man wore dark clothes and a mask. They urge anyone with clues about the perpetrator to come forward.

Authorities have advised that until the offender is caught, students should not travel alone at night, especially women. The Women's Studies department has sponsored a special self-defense course that is available to everyone.

BY MURAKAMI AIKO 

* * *

Thursday

It was the locker room that was getting to Ichigo. It was easy enough to ignore the other members of the team; the thought of Nnoitra disgusted him, Tesla was too creepy to even think about, and Renji was so firmly a friend that even a cursory glance made him feel guilty. No, it was always goddamn Grimmjow Jeagerjacques. He was solid, every bit of that body hard and unapologetically presented, including those solid shoulders and that indent above the hips that the freshman liked so much- _No, you don't think about that. You like women. If you think about women enough, you'll like them. Promise. Really. _

The problem was that he was always there. Like today after practice, there was the blue-eyed man standing down the row of lockers, chest lifting and falling with heavy breaths, hair disheveled from pushing it back. It made Ichigo's pulse race uncomfortably to see him like that, so he couldn't watch long, _wouldn't _watch, and went to shower as quickly as he could without rushing. He had to ignore the urge he felt building in his gut. Every day the same, wishing there was just some way to look... He turned the heat up high enough to hurt.

_Why even think about it? He's the fuckin' poster boy for heterosexuality. I've noticed the numbers he gets after matches; he's got his pick of women. It ain't like he hasn't described screwing girls in graphic detail. Fuck, why do I even care? All he wants is to win against me, again and again. And not barely, completely and totally, then he expects this arguing friend _"_"I'm really hot"_" _thing to be okay? He's such an ass. I just need to find someone else, someone... nice. Maybe he'll make me remember what a human being acts like.  
_

* * *

It was the locker room that was getting to Grimmjow. It was easy enough to stop himself from noticing the bodies of the people around him. It wasn't like Nnoitra's whipcord torso was something he wanted to look at, Tesla was too creepy to consider, and Abarai was too annoying for him to appreciate that physique. No, like always it was fucking_ Kurosaki Ichigo. _He was stacked, but he wasn't over built; lithe. From what he could see, however, there were still soft places on that body, and that carved line around the hips was his favo- _No, focus on the locker. You like the paint job. The locker has a fuckin' sweet rust deposit. Great paint job. _

The problem was that he was always there. Grimmjow watched now while peeling off his socks; Ichigo was flushed and sweating after practice, orange hair damp against his head, a roguish, tired grin on his face while he joked with Abarai and stripped off his practice clothes. It was entirely too easy, like today, to just end up going in to the showers after Ichigo to get a casual look at his ass, except he wanted to see much more. Once under the showerhead, Grimm cranked the temp to cold and got a yelp from the teammate in the next shower.

_It ain't gonna happen thou__gh, so I just need t'stop thinking about it. He's seῆor jock boy, straight as an arrow. I seen the way he smiles at Bigtits when she coos at him. And he makes me so fucking _angry, _I can't even decide if I wanna fuck 'im or beat the shit out of 'im. I just need t'find myself a pretty piece a' ass so everybody stays nice'n'convinced... maybe she'll even distract me for awhile. _

It was a good thought. He even believed for awhile that he'd be able to follow through with it, because Kyoto had its fair share of hot women. But then Grimmjow remembered, after starting up several conversations, that he found most women annoying, and those he wasn't annoyed by weren't the type to be his temporary distraction. He just didn't have the patience today to deal with the empty-headed princesses that were willing to jump into bed with him.

So it was that a few hours after practice he was more sexually frustrated than ever. There was little else to do but grab his lotion and tissues, sit down in his chair and jack off. Slowly at first, tentative, like he thought Kurosaki might be the first time if Grimmjow could ever get him to switch teams. Leaning back and closing his eyes, the aroused athlete let himself fall into his imagination.

_Grimmjow had Ichigo pressed up against the wall and he was horny and tired of not getting what he wanted._

"_I know y'look at me. Y'want me, y'want me enough that y'think of me while yer jackin' off and fingerin' yourself. I bet yer just dyin' to know what it's like t'have someone inside ya,"_

"_Don't say that shit," Kurosaki snarled._

"_Y'want me to say it pretty like? I won't. But…I want ya as much as y'want me," Grimmjow murmured._

"…_Good," He replied breathlessly and yanked Grimmjow closer by his shirt and kissed him. In response he grabbed Kurosaki's hand and guided it down his pants._

"_Yes," Jeagerjacques hissed, moving the hand back and forth. The redhead's expression was part aroused, part scared. _Probably scared of himself_, Grimmjow thought, because the man's hand was groping him without any guidance now. He took it as a signal that Kurosaki was willing, so he leaned in and practically shoved his tongue down his throat. Grimm started thrusting against the hand rubbing him more vigorously as he was given complete control of the kiss without a fight. "Tell me how much you want me," he said quietly and grabbed Kurosaki's ass, hard, making him gasp._

"_Fuck, I…" Grimmjow started biting his neck while one hand undid the younger man's jeans, tugging them down with his boxers. His hand ghosted around Kurosaki's dick, never quite touching it but spreading tauntingly across his thighs. "So bad, please, ugh…" The blue-haired fighter cut off his plea with a deep, languid kiss._

"_Get on yer back if y'want it so much,"_ Grimmjow pulled away and gave him a satisfied smirk_. Ichigo glared at him until Grimmjow finally started tugging on his cock, and his other hand drew closer to his asshole. Ichigo let out a soft grunt of pleasure. "C'mon, get on yer back if y'want me inside ya," he whispered. "I won't touch ya anymore otherwise…" His thumb pressed into his slit, earning him a small sound before he pulled his hand away. Kurosaki growled in anger and tightened his grip on the other man's cock almost too much, before letting go and drawing away from the man's hold. He looked so self-conscious, so angry with Grimmjow and himself as he lay on the floor._

_As soon as Kurosaki was on his back, Jeagerjacques was on top of him, grinning viciously, yanking off the redhead's pants and shoving two spit-covered fingers inside of him without so much as a warning. He let out a short cry and tried to writhe away from the assaulting fingers. _

"_Quit bitchin', just like it," he told him gruffly. He added a third finger and brushed against Ichigo's prostate, eliciting a surprised gasp of joy. That was enough for Grimmjow; he spit on his dick, hitched the redhead's legs up and pressed in without much regard for the groans of pain. It was a bonus for him, if he could fuck the arrogant prick and show him who was stronger all at the same time. This kind of dominance left a deeper memory than any kind of defeat in a game and to be honest it was a great deal of the pleasure he was getting from this. Soon he was thrusting hard, his skin slapping against Ichigo's while the redhead begged for more._

_Grimmjow was only too happy to oblige him, feeling higher and higher with every "please," every moan, every thrust of Ichigo's hips to meet his own. He was just a boy, after all, a boy who would never be anything more than this. It wasn't his fault, and Grimmjow would enjoy reaping the benefits. It came along with being the best._

"Ah…Ahhh…" Grimmjow groaned and thrust up into his hand that was moving faster. "Nnn!" Finally his muscles contracted, his body jerked, and he came. He slumped back into his chair and breathed deeply.

It was nice.

It really wasn't enough.

* * *

Friday

It was a soft, warm day for early October. Renji and Ichigo lay in the grass on a hill, enjoying the weather and staring at the sky while waiting for their other friends. The past few weeks had been high-stress yet somehow went by like a whirlwind, and they all appreciated the chance to laze about on a Friday afternoon. Both redheads let out a deep sigh.

"Today's the day right?" Ichigo asked, absently plucking at blades of grass.

"I think so," Renji replied. They lay in silence again for awhile, clouds fluffing and floating along dreamily above them. How could he build the redhead's confidence up enough, at least temporarily, understand he had a chance with Rukia? _Doesn't he see the sidelong glances, the extra smirks? …Well, no, I guess he wouldn't. _The right advice suddenly formed in his mind.

"Grimmjow's right, y' know," he stated.

"About what?" his friend asked skeptically, and shot Ichigo a look that said he thought he was crazy.

"Don't be a pussy," Ichigo said as if it were obvious.

"I hate both of you," Abarai replied flatly.

"Mhm..." _God this is nice_. His eyes closed and he let the sunshine warm him until he heard the quiet crunch of grass behind them. "Hey Rukia," he waved without turning around. "Take a seat, do nothing with us for an hour or three."

"Love to," she drawled, and plopped down next to Renji who was trying valiantly not to look at her any more than anybody else would. "There's supposed to be a concert on the mall tonight though, anybody wanna go?" She asked, hugging her knees to her chest.

Ichigo looked pointedly at his redheaded friend before looking at Rukia to lie, "Nah, there's some things I have to take care of tonight. Lemme know for the next one." It was too bad; he'd seen the posters and some of the bands sounded good, but doing his boy a solid was more important. _And he'd better make use of it, _he thought.

"I'm game," Renji tried to say as suavely as possible.

"Good! There're some local bands that are supposed to be pretty decent. I didn't want to have to bully any stubborn martial artists into going with me either," she smirked at Renji, one hand clutching her pants a little more tightly.

"Not necessary," Abarai responded with a grin. "You're too scary; I wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of your temper."

"Who are you calling scary!" She demanded and dropped a bunch of ripped-up grass on his face, making him sputter and give her a light push in retaliation.

"I'm calling the scary girl scary!" He said, and earned a laugh instead of a punch; Ichigo considered it good progress.

"Kurosaki-kun, Abarai-kun, Rukia-chaaan!" Orihime called gleefully, and ran and slid into place next Ichigo, with Ishida sitting down next to her with slightly more dignity.

"Did we miss much of the party?" Ishida inquired.

"You missed us chuckin' grass at each other," Ichigo informed him, and subsequently threw a handful of grass at his face. Uryuu cleared his throat and shook the blades from his glasses. One meaningful look from him to each of the group was enough to warn Ichigo. "Wait, hey, no-Agh!" He was showered with clumps of dirt, grass and laughter from all side. It felt good to laugh too. After the assault stopped and the laughter was reduced to occasional snorts and giggles, the teen promised, "When you all least suspect it, when you forget I even said anything, I'll get you back. I _will_."

"Oh yes, I tremble before your mighty wit, Kurosaki-sama," Ishida deadpanned. The sarcasm didn't even bother him, not when he noticed, with satisfaction, that a few of Inoue's fingers lay over Ishida's hand as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Kurosaki-kun is smarter than you give him credit for, Ishida-kun," she said with a wag of her finger.

"Living with someone shows you their worst qualities, I assure you Inoue-chan." _Ha! Inoue-_chan_, huh? Damn I'm good at this. _

"You should be less cynical, Ishida-kun," she scolded lightheartedly. "It's not good for your health to be so pessimistic," she smiled at him indulgently, making him turn barely pink. He adjusted his glasses to draw attention away from it.

"_One _of us has to conceive of the worst things that could happen, or we'll always be woefully unprepared," he lectured. "So, you can frolic in the field while I make sure no one sets the flowers on fire," he finished seriously, though a smile tugged at his lips when Orihime laughed.

He could hear Renji and Rukia drift off into their own conversation too, as familiar as ever, filled with smiles that lasted a little too long and laughs a little too frequent.

"It's not anything, y'know, w_acky, _like that stuff you use for your floor routines is it?" Abarai asked skeptically of the girl next to him.

"I choose that 'wacky' stuff because there are rules about what we can use, _Renji. _No rock and roll, no guitar solos, not even lyrics," she recited the litany like she'd complained about it several times before. "I prefer beam and bars anyway."

Ichigo reveled in his own silence and the happiness around him for several minutes before realization made his heart skip a beat.

Right in the center of all of these people, he was alone.

* * *

It wasn't a fun realization. It was something Ichigo had known in the back of his mind, but it hadn't hit home. He didn't care if it was jealousy that provoked it, it didn't change that he was sick of it.

_If I can't and shouldn't have the one I want, I'll find someone else to want._

It was this thought that led him to put on a nice pair of jeans, clean shoes and a well-fitted navy shirt, and search online for a gay bar a safe distance away from campus that wouldn't make him jump out of his skin. A quick check in the mirror made him grateful for his athleticism and bolstered a confidence he wouldn't admit was faltering. He refused to think about how uncomfortable and weird this venture could be for him; there was a first time for everything and dammit he didn't fail at things. He grabbed his jacket and left before Ishida could get back and ask questions.

The bar was better lit than he'd expected and it seemed half-restaurant anyway. Ichigo hadn't planned on drinking, but no one had bothered to put those annoying X's on his hands so he counted it as a blessing and a sign. He chose a small, tall table off to the side and ordered a beer. _I should go. Just write this off, pretend it never happened, no one would know I came here _or_ that I chickened out. _But no, that was stupid. No one in here was even frightening.

He scanned the place; the lesbians seemed open and friendly enough but there wasn't much point in that avenue. The more attractive men there all seemed to be with someone, and the men alone seemed much older. Well, not all of them... Maybe he could approach someone. But _how_? The freshman was served his beer and brainstormed while he nursed it, but he still hadn't the slightest idea how to hit on someone here without feeling ridiculous. He hated feeling like an amateur.

…_I have to relax. This shit isn't instantaneous. People spend a long time looking for dates; I can't expect to find someone, or be found by someone, on my first night out. …Specially since I'm obviously the fuckin' new guy, and they can probably all tell I'm still in the closet. Fucking fuck fuck f-_

"Excuse me" said a smooth, deep voice behind him, accompanied by a light touch on his shoulder. Ichigo looked behind and breathed in carefully. It was... a very handsome man with tousled brown hair. Maybe he shouldn't have been handsome, not with those thick-framed glasses, but the brown eyes behind them were-_Oh for shit's sake, stop that._ "Are you waiting for someone?" The stranger asked with a faint smile.

"No," was all Ichigo could muster up as a reply.

"Are you looking for someone?" He asked as his smile widened. _Flirt. Flirt damn you! Girls act giggly and smile. Men compliment, tease. ...Neither of those things seem right. Shit. _

"...Maybe," Ichigo replied, trying hard not to seem inexperienced. _I'm probably failing. But I have to pretend I'm not._

"What a coincidence," the man said, and slipped into the chair across from Ichigo. "I might be looking for someone too. I'm Aizen Sosuke," he introduced himself.

"Kurosaki Ichigo."_ ...Okay, now_ s_ay something else. _He realized in the most awful moment possible that he had not approached a single one of the people he counted as friends. They had all come to him, and he had no idea at all how to start this kind of conversation out of nowhere. At least not without a little antagonism, but cussing didn't sound like a good idea. Mercifully his new companion broke the silence.

"You know, I think I've heard your name somewhere before," Aizen trailed off, inspecting his table partner's face. His eyes were kind but they were certainly piercing, and the Ichigo hoped he wasn't blushing from his gaze.

"Uh…My dad's a pretty well-known doctor. Do you live near Karakura?"

"No, no. But I think you know my friend, Gin Ichimaru,"

"_Gin_? That son of a bitch, I had to deal with the consequences of his winning the whole ride home, with Grimmjow going into catatonia and then throwing a fit, and- ..."The redhead cleared his throat, "...I'm sure Gin's a good person," he tried to recover after he realized he'd called Aizen's friend a "son of a bitch," but the brown-haired man just laughed.

"There, I knew you had a few words in there somewhere. I just had to find the right subject," he said with a wide smile.

"What? That's..." _I'm so out of my league. _

"Don't worry. Gin's manner doesn't exactly earn him a lot of friends, so don't clam up now. Tell me about yourself," he encouraged. Ichigo hesitated, looking at the wall to think, before looking back at Aizen more confidently.

"I just started at Kyoto University this year; I have a full ride for martial arts. I saw Gin at last Sunday's tournament, like you said… I didn't fight him but he won against two of my friends. One of 'em was happy to make it as far he did, the other looked like he was gonna have an identity crisis right on the bus," he explained with a grin. "So…What do you do?"

"I'm in my fourth year at Tsubaka University, in Ibaraki. Maybe it would make your second friend feel better if he knew Gin thought he was almost a challenge?" Ichigo nearly choked on his beer.

"_Almost_ a challenge? Oh no, I ain't havin' that conversation. Grimmjow is still capable of kickin' my ass and more than likely to shoot the messenger, the bastard," the freshman said.

"Hm, a big ego. You don't get along, I take it," his table partner guessed.

"He annoys the shit outta me. ...Y'know, most of the time anyway." That initiated another studying glance from Sosuke.

"You still called him a friend," Aizen noted after a moment.

"Difficult as he is, he's still better than the rest of the team, they-" Ichigo began, and then looked a bit disgusted with himself. "This is too much for the first time we meet," he decided and took a sip from his beer. He didn't want to whine to this magnetic stranger.

"It isn't if I asked you," the bespectacled man assured him.

"...Yeah, I guess," _...He's really handsome. I think under that long-sleeved shirt he's more muscled than Grimmjow. _Aizen sized him up, _again_, and then stood up.

"Let's go somewhere else," he suggested. Ichigo scowled and blushed. He'd thought Aizen was smarter than to assume that kind of thing would work with him.

"I don't think that's a good idea," he replied flatly.

"Nothing like that, I promise you. I mean food. Low-pressure, outdoor food from a stand, hm? Somewhere we'll get fewer stares?" Confused, Ichigo looked around and realized they w_ere _being stared at. Aizen leaned in and said quietly, "We're quite the good-looking pair, Kurosaki-kun, it shouldn't be so surprising." Surprised and uncomfortable regardless, he reached for a subject change.

"My beer's only half-finished," the redhead objected.

"You shouldn't have been able to buy it in the first place," Sosuke said with a good-natured grin and quick squeeze of his new acquaintance's shoulder, sparking a scowl, but they both walked out. "I'll buy you another some time." They walked towards a busier street while the younger man considered the situation uneasily. This was going along too smoothly; Ichigo didn't feel like he'd contributed anything at all and yet here was a broad-shouldered senior, entirely too pleasant and handsome and strangest of all, interested in him.

"Do you have some kind of ulterior motive here or something?" He asked suddenly. _Well that's stupid. Of course he does._

"Ah, you've found me out... The truth is, I like your hair a great deal," Aizen admitted, making his companion stare.

"What? I, that isn't what I meant," he replied accusingly.

"The scowl is very charming too, I admit," the brunette added thoughtfully.

"Dammit, stop that," Ichigo demanded, unable to stop his scowl from deepening and his face from flushing.

"Why, when you get so cute?" Ichigo was so flustered he didn't even know what to say. "...I'm sorry, I'll stop," Sosuke relented. "I suppose I shouldn't flirt so flagrantly. It's a shame you're not used to it; beautiful things should be admired, often and out loud." The object of his compliments glared, since the outrageous flirting obviously hadn't stopped, but he decided to ignore the last part.

"It's not that, it's..."

"You didn't strike me as the flirting type even before I talked to you, I'm not expecting anything," Aizen assured him.

"Oh, _thanks_," he said sarcastically. "I love to be reminded of my failures- often and out loud."

"I didn't mean it as an insult. I meant that I think you don't know how to be anybody but yourself. An admirable quality, if not always diplomatic," Sosuke replied eloquently. _Is this how people are supposed to get by senior year? Completely fucking erudite? _

"Speakin' of not being diplomatic," Ichigo said as Aizen stopped walking in front of a large cart with several people milling around it. "A ramen stand?" He asked with a smirk.

"If you recall, "low pressure, outdoor food from a stand,'" he recited with an answering smirk."This is enough to prove I'm a man of my word, right?" he asked as they ordered their food. _Points for telling the truth, but…_

"Hardly," Ichigo responded, but with no loaded emotion behind the word. It was enough to trigger another careful examination from Aizen that he refused to acknowledge. The silence stretched until they were served their food and sat on a table close to each other, feet on the benches. Kurosaki was still feeling suspicious of his new acquaintance, but he couldn't ignore that the brown-haired man was pulling him in. Gentle as he seemed, he radiated heat, and Ichigo found himself getting caught up.

"...So you 'know' all this shit about me, and I don't know anything about you other than you obviously lift weights and you're trying to charm my pants off," he said, trying not to slurp his noodles.

"Not yet, certainly," Aizen replied, spearing a piece of meat on his chopsticks and eating it.

"See, there! You're being cocky. Assuming we're going to be something- I don't like arrogance." _I came here to get away from that. Far away._

"But you like a challenge?" There wasn't much denying that. Ichigo sent him a sidelong glare.

"There you go again, saying things about me. Talk about yourself, because I ain't omnipotent like some people sittin' next to me," he said with irritation.

"Like what? That I'm a Gemini and I like long walks on the beach at sunset?"

"Very fuckin' funny," he said through his food. "What's your major? Your hobbies? Your dream?"

"Ah, the basics. That's fair enough. I have a double major in psychology and political science, and a minor in biology," he started. _That's not intimidating at all. Damn._"I enjoy a number of sports... kendo, though I hardly have time these days... I also like science experiments. If I weren't set on getting in office, I probably would have gone into research. As for my dreams..." Aizen gave Ichigo his most disarming smile. _...Oh. _"I'd like to either rule the world or live forever. Maybe both. "

"No more than any other man would want, of course," Ichigo replied sardonically, making Sosuke chuckle. Kurosaki's phone beeped from his pocket, and he looked at it with a sigh. "One of these days it'll be from my sisters or my dad," he said whimsically, and flipped it open. He read it and snorted, "My friend Renji… Exact quote, "All caps, I've got a date, exclamation point exclamation point exclamation point, you know a real one not a concert you didn't go to," Ichigo recited. "The gutless wonder finally did it."

Aizen smiled lightly, and then plucked the phone from his companion's hand. "Hey! …No reading my texts," the redhead told him.

"Shh," the brunette said while keying his number in, then stood up and handed the phone back. "I ought to get back home. …But if you want, you have a date too," he told Ichigo with a smile, who looked up at him in surprise. "Goodbye Kurosaki-kun."

"…Yeah…bye," he replied, still unsure what to make of Aizen. The man didn't know Ichigo very well, but he knew that seeing a goofy smirk replace his scowl was a rare thing, and it made him smile all the wider when he left.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you everyone for your lovely reviews, they do a writer good and I appreciate them very much :D

For those of you who seem to think Aizen is up to something: That's ridiculous. You're ridiculous.

For those of you who want to give me a large house and a car: I am open to receiving such gifts at almost any time.

* * *

**Chapter 5**

Tuesday

Most of the time when they had their private lessons, it was either careful instruction from the coaches in technique, or the two athletes, in this case Grimmjow and Ichigo, fought against each other. Other times, they fought the coaches themselves.

Like this time.

"Gah!" Ichigo narrowly dodged a foot flying past his face. He hated fighting Yoruichi; she was the fastest person he'd ever met, male or female, and she incorporated acrobatics and devastating flying kicks into their sparring sessions. It was fun to fight someone skilled; it was humiliating to lose so badly. "Yoruichi-sensei, half the things y'do aren't even _legal_ in sanctioned matches!" he panted. He leaned back in panic to avoid a sweeping kick to his face, but it left him vulnerable to a quick sweep from her other leg, tripping him. She stood looming over him.

"Irrelevant Ichigo! You let your concern for honor cloud your attention," she lectured as he jumped to his feet. Their fight began anew but with Ichigo still on his heels, dodging, blocking, and rarely able to attack. "You think a judge is going to notice if your opponent throws in a taekwondo kick every once in awhile? You think he'll care if he does some gymnastics to avoid your attack?" The redhead grabbed a striking leg and spun Yoruichi in midair, but all it did was give her a chance to lance her other foot at his head.

"Dammit!" he staggered back after the hit, getting increasingly sweaty and frustrated.

"You're too set in your ways," she continued, restarting with a flurry of punches. "You're too comfortable, too used to winning, and you can't think outside the box. That's why you didn't see Nnoitra's snakey little move coming, and that's why you can't tell what Grimmjow's going to do next, just because his kung fu has more Shaolin influence than yours!"

"_Hey_!" Grimmjow protested the revelation with a grimace when he heard her, and promptly received a foot to the face from Urahara for not paying attention.

"Without imagination, what you've learned is useless for self-defense!" Ichigo blocked a particularly powerful kick with both of his forearms and spin-kicked at a head that suddenly wasn't there, but two punches to his stomach were. He stumbled back with a wheeze. "See, against me, straight kung-fu isn't working! You should be using my speed and force against me, redirecting instead of just blocking," she instructed him. It wasn't fair that she could teach so well and kick his ass so thoroughly at the same time.

"And worst of all," she began again, blocking a flurry of kicks from him with her arms and legs, then batting Ichigo's arms out of the way, "I know you've thought about doing that, but you haven't," she used the opening to slam her open palms into chest, putting him off-balance, and then axe-kicked him down onto his back. "Because you don't want to throw a woman down to the ground," she said with disdain, and pressed her foot lightly down on his throat. "I think it's time you got over that."

"Yes," the redhead croaked, and she lifted her foot.

"Good," she told him, and helped Ichigo up. "Don't hold back next time."

He looked to the side when he heard Urahara clapping and cheering Yoruichi's speech, evidently done with his own lesson since Grimmjow was also laying flat on the ground.

"Masterful," Urahara proclaimed by snapping his fan shut.

"If she's so great, why ain't she head coach?" Grimmjow asked with a scowl while getting to his feet, earning him scorching looks from both coaches and provoking the striking woman into walking over. The blue-haired man didn't realize what a sore spot he'd hit.

"I am not head coach because the department_,_" she punctuated with a kick to Jeagerjacques' shin, "thinks a woman shouldn't coach a men's team. I'm 'exceptional, but the boys just wouldn't take me seriously without a male authority figure,'" she recited.

"They said every word, I'm afraid," Urahara said with a mournful sigh. "Incredibly vexing decision."

"There are worse people to work under than Kisuke," Yoruichi said with a lecherous smirk towards the blonde, who flapped his fan, denying the compliment, "but always remember that _I_ was born to this. You're all just playing catch-up."

"…Couldn't you sue them over that?" Ichigo asked after scratching under his chin. With statements from both Yoruichi and Urahara, there had to be a good chance she would have won.

"I wanted a job doing what I loved, not a multi-year legal battle. Any other university would probably do the same thing to me, and if I filed a lawsuit, no matter what the outcome, no one would risk hiring me after that," she explained. The redhead frowned. He wasn't sure how anyone could doubt what the purple-haired woman was capable of in the martial arts or the leadership department, even if she was dealing with hardheaded boys. In fact, the only person on the team who had a problem with her was Jiruga, who complained about the 'uppity bitch' and 'filthy whore,' but only when both sensei were far, far away.

"Oh, it bothered her for such a long time. She would get so violent and scratchy during our little try—"

"_Kisuke_!" She cut him off. Ichigo and Grimmjow grinned at each other. It was common enough gossip amongst the team to wonder if Urahara the spacey blonde could possibly attract the smoking hot Yoruichi, and inevitably they concluded that it was impossible. Ichigo had never been so sure; the gold-eyed woman had a lazy and perverted streak to rival any man's, and Kisuke could be more powerful and serious than they even imagined. That, and Ichigo was probably the only one that could appreciate how good-looking the deceptive bastard was.

After practice ended, they walked back to the dorms, once again along the beautiful path through the park. Despite being cut to ribbons by Yoruichi earlier, Ichigo was in a fairly good mood, while Grimmjow found himself in a moody and contemplative state. The leaves on the trees around them had begun to color, but most were stubbornly refusing to turn. Ichigo wished they would hurry; the maples towering above them would be a sight to behold once they began to blaze.

"Yo, Kurosaki," Grimmjow called halfway through, making Ichigo look back. His hands were shoved in his pockets, and he was determinedly looking anywhere but the redhead's eyes.

"Yeah?" he inquired, and stopped to turn around.

"…What's your dad like?" Grimmjow asked, his voice quiet. His mouth was set in a deep grimace like the subject was disgusting to him.

"…Where's this comin' from?" Ichigo asked, confused. They were only just friendly with each other after all, and the junior had never before shown any interest in learning the details of the other's life.

"Shut up and tell me," Jeagerjacques growled. He walked past his companion to the middle of the arched bridge over the park's largest koi pond, and stared across it at statues that were stunning in the daylight but foreboding in the dark.

"You don't like me," the freshman reminded him.

"I don't like anybody else either, but my dad's been tryin' t'talk to me again lately so just answer the goddamn question will ya?" He gripped the railing of the bridge and clenched his jaw. _…This is obviously botherin' him a lot if he's even askin', _Ichigo thought, and wandered to the base of the bridge, not trying to restore eye contact.

"Well, he's a doctor… and kinda crazy. He doesn't have a good sense of personal boundaries, and he's too loud," he listed. He traced the intricate carvings on the bridge post in front of him, feeling like there could be answers here to a lot of questions he had about his teammate. He also felt like he was going to get hints at best.

"What's he like with you?" Jeagerjacques asked and released his death grip on the wood. The redhead shot a look at him; Grimmjow was Grimmjow, so his expression was still disdainful, but there seemed to be something unhappy there too. He looked back at Kurosaki for a moment, but they both quickly looked away.

Ichigo shrugged. "I guess he's always been a bit distant, but I think that's 'cause he thought that's what I wanted… Which is true, maybe. My sisters need him more anyway…And ever since I was eight he's been doing these _random, _obnoxious attacks that aren't meant to seriously hurt me but…I don't even fucking know, I think it's supposed to be _bonding_ but I'm pretty good at fighting now and he fails pretty much every time." Grimmjow stared at him like he was crazy. " Y'don't have to tell me it's weird, goddammit," he defended himself, and rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his pants.

"…No. I think that sounds…" he trailed off. "Well, he's never done anythin' real…y'know…" Ichigo was getting a sinking feeling. He didn't know if Grimmjow knew what he was revealing with these questions, and it felt too personal to hear from someone who was half-enemy half-friend. A half-enemy he was attracted to, but all the same. He picked under his nails for a moment before deciding to take the leap.

"So he's not a good person, huh," the redhead said quietly, joining Grimmjow in looking off somewhere again.

"No." Ichigo remembered his earlier revelation about his blue-haired companion and shifted uncomfortably for a moment before asking,

"…So did you wanna talk—"

"_No,_" Jeagerjacques said vehemently.

"Good, cause I didn't wanna know," he muttered, and walked across the bridge. He hadn't really expected the bastard to accept his offer—it just wasn't in his nature. But it was the first time Ichigo had worked up the courage to reach out. He thought maybe the man needed it enough now that the idiot would stop thinking about his image and help himself. That hope made the quick rebuff sting.

"Good," Grimmjow replied stiffly and waited a moment before following. Fueled by the younger man's bruised feelings, the silence fell heavy between them. Now Jeagerjacques' eyebrows were drawing together in a bit of confusion. He didn't understand why Ichigo, an open person even when the blue-eyed man was baiting him, was suddenly being cold.

Ichigo slowed and chose a cobbled side path that ran alongside a shallow stream. He didn't intend for his senpai to follow, and looked back in surprise when he heard footsteps behind him. Grimmjow scowled at him and the redhead quickly looked back ahead which was just as well, because he couldn't hide his small smile. _This embarrassing, _he told himself._ It doesn't mean anything and I ain't attracted to that combative personality._

"That's stupid, y'know," he said suddenly. "Keepin' everything inside just builds the pressure 'til it all explodes, and knowing you that'll mean massive property damage at _least."_

"Nobody asked you!" Grimmjow berated him.

"Yes you fucking did!" He shouted back. Jeagerjacques clenched his jaw and stewed for a moment.

"Maybe kinda, but whatever! I changed m'mind," he grumbled, and lightly shoved the freshman's shoulder. Ichigo looked back at him and smirked, and it made Grimmjow stumble.

* * *

Wednesday

"Okay student-athletes," Urahara called the team unhappily, tapping his fan against his open palm. "I have some…disconcerting news. There has been a viral outbreak among several teams in Japan. It can be contracted through contact with the disease on the mats or by bodily contact with the infected. In order to prevent further spread of the virus, there is a two week moratorium on competitions and practice throughout Japan until the incubation period ends. "

"What kinda disease are we talkin' here?" Jiruga asked suspiciously. "Stomach flu? Athlete's foot?" Urahara coughed and unfurled his fan, whispering behind it.

"_mumblegladiatorum_."

"Did you just say _herpes_!" Renji asked in horror. Several people let out cries of dismay and it was quickly chaos.

"Hey, HEY!" Urahara shouted, "I may or may not have said the word herpes."

"But how could we possibly get herpes?" One boy demanded.

"Herpes gladiatorum isn't an STD, it affects…The, uh, whole body," Kisuke informed them.

"That is way worse! Don't make it sound like it's better than just regular ol' genital herpes! It's herpes! Everywhere!" Renji yelled.

"Well get your panties out of a twist girls, that's why our tournaments are cancelled, so you don't get body herpes," Yoruichi said. "Please stop complaining and realize this means you don't have any commitments over Halloween." There was a pause, followed by cheers. Nnoitra and Tesla were the only ones who remained silent.

* * *

Thursday

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Rukia questioned.

"He really needs t'be socialized you guys," Ichigo explained. "I don't think he knows _how _to make friends."

"Does it have to be us?" Renji asked wistfully.

"Who the fuck else is gonna? C'mon, I am… 45% sure that we can make him somewhat less of an asshole," Ichigo guessed.

"That's really not a convincing percentage Kurosaki," Ishida replied dryly.

"We should give him a chance, Ishida-kun," Inoue said with a nudge.

"And if you won't, then just think of it as a favor to me'n'Renji. Nicer Grimmjow equals happier redheads."

* * *

Grimmjow sat alone in his room, watching TV. Cancelled practice meant time to catch up on schoolwork, but that idea didn't last long. Mostly he was extremely bored and had no excuse to antagonize anyone or even go see them. Sometimes he regretted that he'd created a lonely existence for himself, but mostly he just told himself that it was proof that everyone was an asshole and not worth his time.

He'd been alone a long time, so this was no new wound. Besides his mother and Forte, no one had stuck around and his attitude became more and more abrasive. He'd found out around age fifteen that sex made things better temporarily, but everyone was too boring, too superficial, too weak, too annoying to stand for long; the list went on.

His mother was still back in Germany, far away from her awful ex-husband and Grimmjow's father. Forte was in Japan, but he was the heir to his father's company and so busy Grimmjow didn't know if he even slept.

But this was fine; it had always been fine and always would be. He didn't need anybody.

There were three knocks on his door, and with a frown he got up and opened the door slightly to see who it was. In front of him stood a serious, somewhat self-conscious looking Kurosaki. _'Course. T'remind me I don't need nobody, but I sure as fuck _want _somebody, _he grumbled to himself.

"Whaddya want?" Grimmjow asked, more than simply curious but unwilling to show it.

"…Can I come in? I, uh…really need to talk to you," the freshman said quietly, looking at the floor. Grimmjow scowled.

"What the fuck is this about, Kurosaki?" He asked.

"I ain't gonna talk about it standing in the hallway," Kurosaki told him defensively.

"Why the fuckwould it involve me?"

"_Grimmjow_," he implored. The junior wavered; the redhead had kind of helped him the other day.

"Shit, fine, whatever, come in. But if it ain't fuckin' serious, I won't wait 'til practice to beat yer ass raw," he snarled and stepped back from the door. Ichigo walked in, and then grinned. The blue-haired man stared at him in confusion and a building anger, when the younger man looked back over his shoulder and called,

"Good to go!" and to his horror, Abarai, Kuchiki, Ishida and Inoue filed into his room, full of smiles and smirks, then gaping at his bare room. _There is no god, _he thought queasily.

"Yo," Renji saluted.

"What's up, jerk?" Rukia asked with a conspiratorial grin.

"…Hi," Ishida said, and adjusted his glasses.

"Hello Grimmjow-san!" Orihime smiled and waved.

"No! Get the fuck outta my room!" Grimmjow commanded. _Kurosaki is a fucking _**dead man**.

"But we come bearin' beer," Abarai said with an evil smirk, and held up a twelve-pack.

"Even if that mattered, which it _don't _because I don't _like _any of ya bastards, it ain't nearly enough!" the blue-eyed man protested.

"That's why I'm here!" Yoruichi declared as she waltzed in, wearing a dirty grin and carrying another two twelve packs.

"Wh—what the fuck?" he stared at all of them. Kurosaki walked up and clapped him on the shoulder. Gut instinct told him to slap his hand away, but he didn't.

"Face it Grimmjow. You're actually hangin' out with people tonight. A fate worse than death," he said sadly, "but that's why the beer's here."

"But… fuckin'…" He struggled for words, seething. "Get out!"

Somehow over Grimmjow's objections, in ten minutes Ishida, Inoue, Ichigo and Grimmjow had crammed onto the futon, Yoruichi, Renji and Rukia were on the floor, and everyone but Inoue had cracked open a beer. They'd plugged in a dirty comedy that was already making Orihime squeak in shock. Their unfortunate victim sent a burning glare at the redhead next to him.

"This ain't okay."

"I think it's my duty to tell ya you're bein' a bitch," Kurosaki said with a shrug.

"Completely true," Renji held up his beer to signal his agreement.

"Nobody asked you," Grimmjow snapped.

"What're friends for?" Ichigo asked, looking at the screen. Grimmjow felt a shocked chill run through his body. _No, that's a ridiculous thing t'say._

"You ain't my friends!" He growled. After all, the uncomfortable heat he felt sitting next to the stupid spitfire was not friendly. It was more of a ravaging thing.

"Also completely true," Ishida confirmed with a sip.

"But we could be," Inoue leaned forward to say with a hopeful smile.

"…You're all whacked. Fuckin' certifiable. Ihr seid alle total bescheuert!"

"I don't know what the last one is, but this melodrama is getting exhausting and I'm not even involved," Yoruichi complained. "Just drink your beer and have a good time." That kept them all silent for awhile, until Abarai piped up.

"…Why d'you always end up stepping in?" He asked.

"Because you _are_ all fucking insane! I mean, damn, relax. That's why I bought you this stuff," she said with a shake of her head, and chugged half her beer. "Everythings 'I'm gonna kill you' this, and 'I'm gonna fuck your mother' that."

"Boys," Rukia said sagely, making Orihime giggle and Renji elbow her, earning him a pinch, which ended with him scowling and holding her hand.

_Ugh._

"Not 'boys,'" Ishida corrected, "hormonal hyper-competitive athletes."

"Shut up Ishida," Ichigo said wearily.

_Arrogant know-it-all. I wanna punch'im in the face more than Abarai, _Grimmjow thought. After that they quieted down and watched the movie. Forty-five minutes in, well loosened up by alcohol, the tension was diffused and even Grimmjow was laughing. Yet even that wasn't enough to make him forget that he was thoroughly squished against Ichigo, arm and thigh touching the person he most assuredly shouldn't ever touch. And the person he'd jerked to in a pretty intense fantasy last week. And yesterday.

Just remembering it was enough to waken his desire to at least _touch_, and under the pretense of demanding more space on the couch, shoved the redhead over a bit and spread himself out. That earned him a shove right back from the well-flushed Kurosaki. _I can mock 'im for that later; a little fast t'get drunk._ Rukia was now looking at them with a calculating stare; he scowled at her and looked back at the movie.

…_It ain't like you've never slept with a "straight" guy before, _he reassured himself. _In fact, that first guy was one 'a the manliest guys I've ever met. …But too much t'lose here. Just stop thinkin' 'bout it. _

The ploy had been worth it though, except that now he wanted to do even more and he was limited to pressing his leg a little closer to Kurosaki than it would have been normally. Since that meant absolutely nothing, he just became disgruntled.

Another ten minutes later, Yoruichi answered a call on her phone. Grimmjow was mildly annoyed that she didn't leave for it, but he wasn't about to bitch at his coach and beer-buyer.

"Yo, Soi-Fon! Nice to hear from you," the gold-eyed woman said with a grin. "… Just hanging out with a few of my kids, drinkin' some beer." They all heard muffled scolding from her phone. "Aw, c'mon. You didn't mind when I did it with _you._" Renji looked at her a bit oddly after hearing that, but turned back to the movie. "So how are you? You still so pretty and butch at the same time?" She asked wickedly. Grimmjow frowned and Ishida's eyebrows creased, but again, their attention remained on the TV screen. "Oh, yeah. I guess we're kinda serious…" Kurosaki glanced over with interest. "No, not so serious that you and I couldn't still get together and do a little-" She felt eyes on her back, so she turned and realized all of the boys were staring at her. She scowled and covered the receiver on her phone with her hand. "Really boys? Really?" Their eyes snapped back to the movie, but Yoruichi still rolled her eyes and stepped outside to finish the call.

"…Hot," Grimmjow stated when she left.

"Yeah," Abarai agreed, until he saw Rukia's raised eyebrows. "…Come on! Don't make me pretend like it ain't!"

"I wasn't gonna," the dark-haired girl said.

"But you're sayin' it with your eyes!" He protested.

"Shut up Renji, you just said lesbians were hot and didn't get shit for it," Kurosaki reprimanded. They finished the movie without any further interruptions, though every once in awhile Kurosaki started to doze, his head falling onto Inoue's shoulder and limp arms resting on her and Grimmjow's thighs. The blue-eyed athlete was torn between ignoring him completely or throwing him against the wall. Yoruichi didn't walk back in until the credits finished rolling and the sound woke Kurosaki with a start, who tried to play it off like nothing had happened.

"_Now_ will you all get out?" Grimmjow asked in a long-suffering tone, but the request seemed a great deal less urgent.

"Too bad you missed it," Inoue lamented to Yoruichi, "the wedding scene was funny."

"I don't mind, it's been too long since I talked to Soi-Fon. But! Stay put before you all run back home," she said with a grin, and pulled a camera out of her pocket. "Everybody smile!" Inoue hugged Ishida's arm and Rukia leaned back against Renji.

_Oh hell no,_ Grimmjow thought.

"…Oh hell no," he said with disgust. Kurosaki elbowed him hard.

"Don't be a dick. Pretend y'just beat me at a tournament," he said quietly, making the blue-haired man smirk. Before it could disappear, Yoruichi snapped the picture.

"Gotcha! Heh heh…"

"Fuck!"

"Oh nooo," Kuchiki mocked him, wailing, "proof that you can stand to be next to people!" She stood up. "I guess we'll just have to show it to everyone," she said with a shrug.

"That's-….You're…I don't care," the junior finished lamely.

"Doesn't _sound_ like y'don't care," Kurosaki said tipsily, getting up from the futon. While walking to the door, he tripped over the still sitting Abarai. Instinctively Grimmjow's hand shot out and grabbed his arm before he could fall.

"Shit, thanks," Kurosaki said, and flashed him such a brilliant smile that Grimm dropped him in surprise. "Son of a bitch!" he exclaimed as he toppled onto his friend. "Agh!"

"What the fuck Ichigo!" Abarai complained and shoved him off. He grumbled and gathered what was left of the beer. Kurosaki got to his feet and shot a dark glare at Grimmjow who smirked to cover himself. Slowly, everyone drifted out.

"Let's do this again, Grimmjow-kun!" Inoue called back with a cheerful wave.

"I suppose that wouldn't be too bad," Ishida's voice drifted in from the hallway.

"…I think I'm drunk," Abarai muttered and stumbled out of the room.

"Thanks for the fun Grimmjow," Kuchiki said, grinning wickedly and giving him a _very _confusing wink as she left. His brow wrinkled in suspicion as he tried to figure out what she could possibly have meant. Yoruichi gave a casual salute,

"I'll send you the picture. And don't think this means I'll go easy on you at practice," she said with a smirk, and strolled out. Ichigo was the last one left.

"Bye dickhead," he said flatly, and closed the door behind him. Grimmjow scowled.

_Fuck,_ _I didn't _mean _to._

* * *

Saturday afternoon

Ichigo kicked three times at Grimmjow's door, arms full with a Playstation 3.

"Whaaat?" The stubborn man groaned from behind the door.

"Let me in bastard, I got somethin'," he told him, and kicked at the door again.

"Ugh, cut that the fuck out!" A few seconds later Grimmjow wrenched open the door, looking a little worse for wear. His hair was wild and his shirt was rumpled. "What's this about? Aren't y'pissed at me still?"

"Well, you're still a dick, but… Videogames. Do you know what they are?" The blue-haired man rubbed his eyes.

"But _why_?"

"Because your room is the emptiest thing I've seen since Jiruga's soul—Oh," Ichigo stopped, finally noticing the short-haired redhead pulling up her pants in the back of the room. She turned around and smiled.

"Don't worry sweetie, I was already on my way out. Grim-kun's just got a temper, don't you?" She pulled him over by the sleeve and kissed his cheek, making him grumble. "Yes you do," she said with a smirk. "Call me if you wanna do it again," she leaned in close, saying more quietly, but not quietly enough to stop Ichigo from hearing, "Your friend's cute too. We could all do something…together," she said silkily, making Jeagerjacques grin widely and Ichigo turn pink, before strutting out. "Bye boys!"

"Bye Ada," Grimmjow said, and collapsed onto his futon.

Ichigo scowled down at the Playstation he was cradling in his arms. He was not jealous. He was not needled that she actually seemed capable of dealing with Grimmjow.

"…I suddenly feel like a nerd," he said crossly.

"And y'should," the smug man said, pointing at him. The redhead kicked the door shut behind him and set his game console on the floor, hooking it up to the TV without asking. Grimmjow watched, bemused, and sated enough for once that he wasn't annoyed. "I knew that chick was freaky, but damn... …So d'ya wanna fuck'er with me?" Ichigo managed not to fumble the cords he was holding and only waited a moment before putting together a coherent response. That offer was very close to somewhat kind of having sex with Grimmjow. Tantalizingly close.

So he said no.

"I don't even _know_ her," he rationalized.

"So?" Jeagerjacques scoffed. "I don't either."

"So you think we should both fuck someone you just met?" He asked skeptically. "Y'know they call that a 'Devil's Threesome,'" he muttered. _And you want it so bad you won't do it so he doesn't get suspicious. And you're stupid, because he _invited_ you. _The idea heated his cheeks.

"Ah, well, I s'pose y'should lose yer virginity before jumpin' right into a threesome," Grimmjow sighed. "I'm sure I can find someone else, maybe another chick if I'm lucky…" He trailed off.

"I'm _not _a_-_" Ichigo began intensely, but Grimmjow interrupted him.

"Don't pull that bullshit with me; you've never had a girlfriend! Guy like you? No girlfriend, no bumpin' uglies. Annoyin'ly straight-laced," he shook his head.

"You were listening to that conversation?" That was something he wished the asshole didn't know. That was actually something he wished nobody knew.

"What else would I be doin' on that bus a'sides eavesdroppin' numbnuts?"

"You're goin' down," the redhead muttered and threw a controller at Grimmjow's chest, and then sat down next to him instead of across the futon. The man grinned and leaned forward.

"So what're we playin'?"

"Call of Duty, Nazi Zombies," Ichigo informed him with a grin. "We're gonna shoot 'em."

"…Shit, that's pretty awesome," Jeagerjacques noted. "…People in Germany would love this shit." Ichigo looked at him quizzically.

"…They feel, y'know, really bad 'bout that whole…thing."

"That whole…thing?" the freshman asked flatly and made Grimmjow scowl.

"Shut up and play the goddamn game so I can win," he said as they began play.

"There're barricades'n shit set up around the area," Ichigo explained, "the zombies're gonna break through so you need to run around to each access point, shoot 'em before they get in and rebuild the barriers."

"…This's pretty damn easy, Kurosaki," he sighed with disappointment.

"Not for long. The longer we survive the higher level we go. Higher levels mean more zombies, faster zombies, and harder to kill zombies. Eventually this area is gonna be compromised and too full, and we have to move on to a new location. …Fix the barriers on your side, goddamn don't you pay attention?" Ichigo scolded him while frantically shooting free-range undead.

"I did, I dunno where the fuck they're comin' from!" Grimmjow shouted back

"There's a thing down the stairs you retard!" Ichigo yelled and shoved him.

"_I've never played this game before!_" Jeagerjacques snarled through his teeth. He would have pushed the annoying brat back but that would increase the probability of his death.

"Fuck, just follow me, we're gettin' outta here," the redhead told him bitterly, and led him to the next location. "Get that gun first," he commanded. Grimmjow turned his character frenetically, unable to find anything.

"What gun?" He asked, glaring shrewdly at the screen.

"That gun, hurry, pay the points for it!" the freshman hissed, and covered his back from the enemies that had followed them.

"What gun!" Grimmjow exploded.

"That one right there! Shit, just run!" Ichigo tried to point before realizing they were about to be overrun in the narrow corridor.

"I ain't a coward!" The man next to him growled, and turned to start mowing down zombies

"This ain't a stand your ground kinda game Grimmjow! Get to the higher ground, y'know, strategy!" Of course, the stubborn man didn't listen, and both of them died shortly after. "…" The redhead turned to look at his gaming partner, completely expressionless. The wordless rebuke, even about something as mundane as a videogame, stung Jeagerjacques' pride.

"I'm gonna get better," he defended.

"Right." Ichigo replied doubtfully.

"…I'm surprised you didn't bring Abarai, this seems like his kinda thing," Grimmjow grumbled as their game restarted.

"I didn't bring Renji 'cause he is way, way better at this game than me," the junior snorted, "I thought you should get a chance to practice before he kicked all our asses—Run, run!"

"Fuck!" Grimmjow leaned forward, nearly resting his chest on his knees.

"Now grab the fucking gun! Goddammit you're a waste a' space!" Ichigo smacked him upside the head.

"Okay, okay! Fuckin' hell, you're _abusive_!"

"Shut your mouth and play!"

Several minutes later, there was a lull in between levels. Ichigo stiffened. "…What?"

"Fuck, Hellhounds. It's a stand your ground kinda game now," he informed Jeagerjacques.

"What do I do different?" He asked.

"Fire everything and _don't die," _Ichigo said threateningly.

"Got it." The air was quickly filled with the sounds of commands, curses, and furious button mashing, but it was to no avail. They died, and Grimmjow got another smack.

"FUCK!" the blue-haired man yelled, infuriated. He raised his hand to throw his controller down in anger, but Ichigo's hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

"You throw that and you die for real," he said threateningly. They both jumped in surprise when someone burst through the door without knocking. An imposing man stared at them from the doorway with a wide-eyed, unnerving gaze. The controller slipped from Grimmjow's hand and clattered to the ground.

* * *

Note: Herpes Gladiatorum is real and sporting events in my state have been cancelled because of it before. .org/wiki/Herpes_gladiatorum The more you know!


	6. Chapter 6

So chapter 6 has arrived. I'll be honest, it was a bitch to write, but I think the extra effort has paid off. And I am yet again unable to stop the chapters from growing in page number, so enjoy reaping the benefits of that problem!

Note: Throughout the story I've been referring to the park as...the park. Then I realized it's referred to throughout the story and considering how well it's been landscaped and all it prooobably has a name. So now it's called Hirui no Nai Park, which may not make any sense so I'm going to try and check with someone who knows what they're talking about on that. I'll go back and change it in previous chapters.

Another note!: I was sorely, sorely mistaken about the location of Ibaraki and thus where Aizen and Gin attend school is going to change, but that's going to take some research and I only just realized this now.

Thanks to Lady Shadow (as she is known here ) for beta-ing, and thank you everyone for your reviews. Heart.

* * *

Chapter 6

"Who the fuck're you?" Ichigo demanded. He was sure he could defend himself, but that didn't stop a little fear from worming its way inside him. The stranger was taller than both of them and looked strong and more than a little crazy. Sallow skin hung off of what must have once been an even more muscled frame, covered by a jacket that surely had once fit better. Sores were visible on his face and hands and his teal hair was wild and looked like he had pushed it back a hundred times that day. That's what the redhead noticed first.

Second he noticed that Grimmjow wasn't flaring in anger at the intrusion or even breaking away from the grip Ichigo had on his wrist. He let go, and looked back and forth between them; Grimmjow's deep grimace, the stranger's strong jaw and growing grin.

"Grimmi, won't you introduce us?" The intruder leaned against the desk and licked his cracked lips. That seemed to snap his friend out of it. He shot to his feet, face pulled into a snarl, and yanked Ichigo up with him. "I've missed you," the older man said.

"Fuck, loosen it up!" Ichigo growled and yanked his arm from Grimmjow's crushing grip, but the words didn't seem to penetrate.

"Get outta here, Kurosaki," he commanded, his voice too even for the situation they were in. Ichigo's eyes flicked back and forth again, because he thought he knew who this was; that made Grimmjow's restrained fear all the more worrying and not just in regard to their physical safety. _Don't be stupid, Grimmjow._

"I don't think-"

"Get the fuck out!" Grimmjow yelled and shoved him towards the door. The redhead saw a flash of real worry in Jeagerjacques' eyes and that compelled him more than anything to stay. As he turned to say so, the stranger grabbed his shoulder. He was tempted to jerk away, but this man looked wild; there was a sharp, barely contained violence in his movements. Ichigo didn't want to move suddenly and startle him into doing something dangerous. He didn't know if there was a knife hidden in that jacket.

"What's the rush? I want to meet your friend... I haven't met many of your friends," he said with a smile that sent a chill up the redhead's back. "He looks real interesting," he elaborated softly, and squeezed. _Holy shit, _Ichigo thought, the man's words and tone setting off alarm bells in his head. So close to him, he could smell a sickly combination of cigarettes, booze and something acidic. He fought not to cover or wrinkle his nose in distaste. Then he tried to signal to Grimmjow with his eyes that he was ready to beat the shit out of this creep any time, but to his fury he was ignored. _Of course you'd think y'could handle it all by your goddamn self... C'mon Grimmjow! I can tell this ain't anything good!_

"Let go of him," Grimmjow demanded, then looked to Ichigo. "An' you, this is none of your fuckin' business so get the fuck out!" The freshman opened his mouth to argue, but he was cut off. "No! I said leave!" The stranger let go of the redhead, who grudgingly walked to the door, but hesitated after turning the knob. "Ichigo, if y'don't go now I'll _never_ forgive you," Jeagerjacques growled. The magic words.

"…You're an idiot," Ichigo said, and left.

His name. His name and an emotional threat, that was what what it took to make Ichigo to leave and ignore the heavy weight on his chest. _I'm weak _and _stupid, why'd I listen to that? Damnit, damnit_. As the door closed behind him he heard the eerie man call, "Ha! Bye, Strawberry," followed by another harsh bark of laughter.

…_Well_, he decided as he pressed his ear to the door, Grimmjow was fucking retarded if he thought Ichigo was going to leave entirely.

* * *

Long moments passed as Grimmjow stared. _It can't be real_. It had been too many years and he looked too different. It was easy to see he'd amped up his drug use in the years since; the smell, the sunken in cheeks, the wide-eyed glassy stare. He cursed the shock that had made him drop the controller, that made things go fuzzy, that made him seem afraid when he wasn't. He wasn't, but he felt Kurosaki's comforting hand leave his arm and he swung back into reality like a pendulum.

"Grimmi, won't you introduce us?" Toma Jeagerjacques asked with a grin, staring at Kurosaki and licking his lips. Grimmjow's temper flared and he clamped his hand onto Kurosaki's arm and hauled him to his feet. "I've missed you," his father said.

"Fuck, loosen it up!" Kurosaki growled and pulled from his grip.

Nine years.

"_I've missed you Grimmi, c'mere. No need to cry, just c'mere and see daddy…" The little boy cried and cried. "Stop crying." Weeping. "She's fine, just shut up!" _

"_Go away! Leave us alone!" _

"_Shut your goddamn mouth right now, Grimmjow!"_

"_Go away!"_

"_I said shut the fuck up!" A crack and a thud, then no more noise.  
_

_Are you here 'cause for one fuckin' second I wasn't livin' in the shadow of what y'did?_

"Get outta here, Kurosaki," he ordered, forcing his voice to be calm, collected. The idiot was probably confused, but there was no time to explain why he couldn't be there. Why no one at all, especially no one Grimmjow remotely liked, could be there

"I don't think-" Kurosaki began, and an angry panic filled Grimmjow again, so he grabbed the redhead and shoved him to the door.

"Get the fuck out!" _Get out, get out! _This was private, too private. No one could see the shameful, disgusting thing he'd come from. And if worse came to worse, he didn't want to be seen if he crumbled like he used to. But Kurosaki was a fucking dumbass so he turned to fight about it, when his dad grabbed the redhead's shoulder. Grimmjow struggled to breathe.

"_Let her go! She didn't do anything!" The blue-haired child yelled, trying to pull his father away from his delicate, weeping mother._

"_If you don't move away, you stupid shit, you're going to be worse off than she is, I swear to fucking god!" His father batted him son away easily. _

_Grimmjow came back and beat at his leg with both fists, shouting, "I don't care! I don't care I don't care I don't-" __Toma slammed his wife against the wall._

"What's the rush? I want to meet your friend … I haven't met many of your friends," His father said with a smile that made the junior sick. Toma looked at the redhead with intrigue. "He looks real interesting," he added softly, and Grimmjow felt a familiar dread. He could only imagine how creeped out Kurosaki was now; the bastard was probably high. Grimmjow's dad had always acted strangely towards the few friends he managed to make, and that combined with the violence at home meant they were almost never invited over. He didn't feel right exposing them to it or showcasing the family's baggage; he was proud, so to the outside world he would assure the appearance of perfection.

But most importantly, he wouldn't let his father hurt anyone ever again.

"Let go of him," he demanded, then looked to Ichigo. "An' you, this is none of your fuckin' business so get the fuck out!" The redhead began to speak, but Grimmjow interrupted him, anxiety rising with every moment the stupid, stupid freshman refused to leave. "No! I said leave!" Toma released Kurosaki, who walked to the door but hesitated after turning the knob. Another wave of anger and fear made him want to chuck something at the stubborn, stupid ass, followed by an entirely disconcerting surge of actual worry. He paused, and against the voice in his head that demanded he remain aloof and retain that appearance of perfection, he threatened, "Ichigo, if y'don't go now I'll _never _forgive you."

He saw the redhead's mouth tighten, and he replied,"…You're an idiot," and left. A weight lifted from Grimmjow's shoulders, but it was only replaced by the anxiety of being alone with his dad.

The name made his father laugh. "Ha! Bye Strawberry," he said, and laughed again.

His son bridled and growled, "Don't talk like you're 'is _friend_." The elder Jeagerjacques grinned with narrowed eyes. It was unsettling; his father had that power to make him afraid, no matter that he could probably beat the man to death now.

"No need to get hostile son… I just want to see you. Your mother's been keeping you away from me so long," His father said and stepped closer, making Grimmjow take a step back. "C'mon, why don't you sit down so we can talk?"

"I'll stand, thanks," Grimmjow spat. "Now why don't y'just tell me why you're here so y'can leave."

"I'm hurt Grimmi. I want our relationship back," Toma said, and his son clenched his fists, _as if it was ever there, _"…but there is something else I wanted to talk to you about, if you won't be civil to your own father." _Civility. _As if this son of a bitch, this violent, drug riddled fuck knew anything about being civil. But at least the bastard was getting to the point; he never would visit the son he so clearly loathed unless he wanted something from him.

"_You know what I hate about you the most Grimmi?" His father whispered to him when they were alone, swaying drunkenly. The boy was huddled in a corner, trying to control his fear and also his anger. If it bubbled over like it so often did, he'd just be punished worse. "Ever since you were born you're all Murasaki cared about. 'I can't, Grimmjow needs this, the baby needs that. I need to take care of him, I can't do that right now. Can't you lighten up on those habits for our son's sake?' Center of her fuckin' world. As if I ever really wanted you around. Did it for _her, _thought it'd get the bitch off my back, wanted to make her happy." He knelt down close to his son, his breath reeking of booze. "She just got whinier. And you just became more disappointing every day." _

_Murderous anger flashed in Grimmjow's eyes and he jumped to his feet. "I hate you! I hate you an' I just wish you'd leave, an' one day me'n mom are gonna run and go away forever and ever and never see you again you bastard!" He cried. _

_Toma's lip curled in rage and his hand clamped like a vice on Grimmjow's arm. "What did you say to me you little shit!" He yelled, and shook his son violently. He didn't stop even after there was a loud snap._

"I heard that your mother's father died recently…I'm sure he left you quite a bit of money. I thought you'd come back to Japan to receive the inheritance, and I was so thrilled when I read those articles about you in the paper, that you were going to school here now and doing so well," he said with a smile. "I'm so proud." _Can't believe 'is teeth didn't break on the fuckin' word._ The flattery, the imitation of love was making Grimmjow sick. It disgusted and insulted him that the monster thought it would work. "I owe some money, son. A lot of money, to dangerous people, and I need your help. And you're going to give it to me."

_I hope they kill you,_ Grimmjow thought. The memories, the undercurrent of worry, the anger he was pushing down, it was all wearing down at his nerves and making everything a thousand times worse, every word spoken like a screech in his brain. This submissiveness, this holding back from what that fuck deserved wasn't who he was and his father was responsible and he hated it all even more.

"Y'want my help?" Grimmjow asked flatly. _What else? _He thought bitterly. _Leech. Roach. Cancer._ "Grandpa would turn in 'is grave. Well y'ain't gettin' any. It's mine and I don't owe you _shit_."

Toma smiled coldly. "You're…refusing me?" He asked with amusement and stepped closer. Grimmjow bristled and stepped back into a fighting stance. His mouth set in a snarl and fear triggered his rage to brimming. Even though his father had made no concrete threat, it pressed against him all the same. The memory of his bruises and broken bones throbbed in his body.

"I dunno what you're _on _that's makin' ya so airy-fairy and thinkin' this'll work, but I ain't fuckin' scared a' you, you worthless pathetic fuck. There ain't no frail woman to scare outta her mind, no tiny little boy y'can hit to make yourself feel powerful. D'ya know who I _am_? I could _kill _you now!"

"I know how strong you are now Grimmi," Toma whispered. "That's why I'm asking you one more time to give me some money. It'd be pocket change to what he left you; he always liked you. Your mother's money alone could help me out and she'd never know." _Grimmi. Grimmi Grimmi Grimmi. _Always that stupid fucking petname, a mockery of an endearment, a reminder that he was still the weak child under his father's power. _Of course, Grimmi. Shut up while I break your arm, Grimmi. Tell your mom y'got the black eye at school, Grimmi._

"That ain't the fuckin' point you lunatic! You'll never, ever get anythin' from me except a beatin' which I should give ya no matter what, 'cause you deserve all the worst things in the goddamn world!"

"…I hoped it wouldn't come to this. I really did," his father said, and pulled a gun out from his jacket.

Grimmjow's heart thumped, but he wasn't thrown off for long. "Y'think I'm stupid?" He sneered. "Y'won't kill me, 'cause then you still won't get any money an' you'll be just as far up shit creek as before!"

"I'm not stupid either. I won't kill you, just hurt you a little. Take you to one of their private doctors, fix you up and take a little trip to the bank, easy as pie."

"…I'm not afraid a' bein' hurt. I'd _never_ do anythin' t'help you." He'd seen his father's normal attitude building up, but this flipped the final switch and put the man into a rage.

"Fine then, you want to up the ante?" The elder Jeagerjacques snarled. "You've never known when to quit before, I don't see why it'd change. I'll just find one of your friends, you brat. You seemed to like that boy, Ichigo, right? It'd be easy enough to find him." Grimmjow tensed but before he launched himself his father had already pulled the chamber back and aimed it his son's chest. "I don't think I've seen you care about anyone but your mother, Grimmi," he said with a mocking grin. The taunting and the implication that he cared about Kurosaki that much was idiotic. Even if he'd been willing to throw himself at a man with a gun, the idea was just stupid. "Maybe you have learned something. Just as well, it works out for me."

"Shut up you twisted-"

"_That's enough_! No more of these insults, this fucking backtalk like you're better than me, you son of a bitch! You're _nothing_, you've always _been_ nothing and you're going to _do what I say_. We're going to the bank and you're going to have a nice sit down and tell them you need 25,000 Euros for your tuition or something. You're gonna give it to me and then we'll both go on our merry fucking way, it's not that hard!"

"_25,000?_"

"Let's go, boy." Toma stood off to the side and gestured to the door with his gun. "Go on, lead the way." The younger Jeagerjacques felt a twinge of despair. It was useless to fight back, like always. He was helpless again. Powerless, too small, too weak to escape from his towering father just like old times. It wasn't fair. When he started learning Kung-fu, he was never supposed to feel helpless again. It hurt.

"…I hate you. I don't think anyone could hate anyone else as much as I fuckin' hate you."

* * *

It felt wrong. It probably was, a little, but Ichigo remembered the conversation they'd had about fathers. He saw the resemblance between Grimmjow and the intruder, and he saw the man's off-putting appearance and eerie manner, and he didn't want to take a chance. If things got violent he wouldn't forgive himself for not intervening. His suspicion about their relation was confirmed soon enough.

If only Grimmjow hadn't been so stupid and stubborn, he wouldn't be reduced to standing in a dorm hallway with his ear pressed against the door.

A girl walked by and looked at him oddly, then muttered, "Pervert."

"I'm not, I… dammit," he hissed quietly. He couldn't let the two hear him through the door, so he swallowed his pride and let her walk away. It was hard to hear Grimmjow's father, but Grimmjow himself was loud and clear. _He's here for money… No wonder he hates him, _Ichigo thought with disappointment.

But something else was wrong with their conversation; the elder Jeagerjacques was being calm, sweet, even…but there was just something he couldn't put his finger on that put him more on edge.

"I ain't fuckin' scared a' you, you worthless pathetic fuck. There ain't no scared, frail woman to scare outta her mind, no tiny little boy y'can hit to make yourself feel powerful. D'ya know who I _am_? I could _kill _you now!" He heard Grimmjow shout. Ichigo felt his insides churn, his heart tighten. He shouldn't be listening to this. He hadn't been trusted to hear this information, but… Maybe this made the man. _He's an asshole to shut out people like this. …Stupid, _he thought. Stupid, but he understood.

There was muttering, then "That ain't the fuckin' point you lunatic! You'll never, ever get anythin' from me except a beatin' which I should give ya no matter what, 'cause you deserve all the worst things in the goddamn world! … … Y'think I'm stupid? Y'won't kill me, 'cause then you still won't get any money an' you'll be just far up shit creek as before!" His teammate yelled, and Ichigo tensed. Some promise of violence must have been made. The meeting was turning bad, and the redhead grimaced. He barely suppressed the urge to intervene that very moment; barging in and getting hurt might be a good distraction but he wasn't feeling particularly stupid that day. He couldn't hear what was said next, but he heard his father explode and despite his worry for Grimmjow, this was the thing that made his blood run cold.

"Fine then, you want to up the ante? You've never known when to quit before, I don't see why it'd change. I'll just find one of your friends, you brat. You seemed to like that boy, Ichigo, right? It'd be easy enough to find him." There was some sort of clicking noise. "I don't think I've seen you care about anyone but your mother, Grimmi. Maybe you have learned something. Just as well, it works out for me."

The man was desperate then; Ichigo had only tried to stand up to someone truly desperate once, and he thought he had learned that lesson pretty clearly. _But… _he thought and closed his eyes. _Just because it went wrong doesn't mean… doesn't mean it was wrong. This is different... _

"_That's enough_! No more of these insults, this fucking backtalk like you're better than me, you son of a bitch! You're _nothing_, you've always _been_ nothing and you're going to _do what I say_. We're going to the bank and you're going to have a nice sit down and tell them you need 25,000 Euros for your tuition. You're gonna give it to me and then we'll both go on our merry fucking way, it's not that hard!"

"_25,000?_" Silence, then another murmur. Footsteps. His heart pounding now, Ichigo slid to the side so he would be hidden by the door when it opened. _This is easy. You're strong enough. _His breath came fast and deep. _You're overreacting. This is different. _Grimmjow opened the door and walked out – _Grimm wouldn't back down if he didn't have a weapon. And if he has one he'll turn it towards me when he closes the door. _Grimmjow's father stepped out more slowly and when he reached to the shut the door, Ichigo's panic spiked and he acted.

A sharp kick to the right wrist to knock it back, a kick to the kneecap that made the man shout a curse, stumble and fall. Ichigo's left hand shot out to grab the gun hand and he kicked the man in the face with his right foot to keep him down; the senior Jeagerjacques shouted and released the gun to clutch his nose.

It happened so fast. It was easy—Grimmjow's father didn't know anything about real fighting. He barely remembered it, only that now the man was on the ground, Grimmjow was staring at Ichigo, and he was staring at the gun in his hand. The gun. It was warm, and heavier than he'd expected. His stomach was starting to twist into knots.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and extended the weapon out to his teammate, looking at him blankly. _Take it. Please. _Grimmjow did take it, but the redhead couldn't remember why he didn't see his fist coming towards his face at all, only stumbling back after the fact in shock.

"This was none a' your fuckin' business you son of a bitch! How _dare_ you? Didya think I needed your help?" Grimmjow shouted, oblivious to the fact that his father had gotten up and was limping away. The redhead's eyebrows drew together in confusion_. Is this real?_

"I helped you," he said. Everything was so dreamlike, but anger and frustration were starting to burn it away.

"I didn't want your help!" Grimmjow was furious, and his complete irrationality finally sparked Ichigo's temper, distorted by his anxiousness. _How can he, how can he be so fuckin'—fuck! _He shoved Jeagerjacques hard against the wall.

"How dare _you_, y'obstinate bastard! I saved you, saved myself and this is how y'thank me? I knew you were fucked in the head but this bullshit takes the cake! This is why you're alone Grimmjow, why you're always gonna _be_ alone!" The redhead snarled, and walked away.

"…I don't care! I don't need you! Stay the fuck outta my life!"

Ichigo couldn't see Grimmjow's face fall from hatred to grief.

* * *

It was a little humiliating, but Ichigo set aside his pride because he needed to be around someone so badly. Ideally he wanted to talk to Chad, but phone calls with him were awful. It was his presence Ichigo needed more than his words. Why he didn't turn to Renji or Rukia he didn't know, but there he was, waiting on a bench in Hirui no Nai Park for Aizen Sosuke to arrive. _This is stupid. But that's what I said before I met him too... …I'm gonna end up tellin' the whole story and he's gonna know I'm fucked up. …And I wanna talk to him anyway. _

The bench was old, the wooden slats dug into his thighs and back. He welcomed it though; the pain was a bite of reality. Even still it was hard to believe what had happened and that made him feel even more stupid. It had all worked out relatively fine in the end. Seeing a gun, holding a gun, it meant nothing.

Nothing at all.

_Liar._

_Goddamnit Grimmjow. Damn you._

_It's not like he could have known, but fuck, that's mostly not even what's bothering me. How stupid is that? It's not the gun, or the danger, it's that afterward he was such a royal fucking douchebag, such a retarded motherfucker, and threw such a shitfit! He's so fuckin' infuriating!_

…_But he must'a been real freaked..._

… _I don't care if he was freaked out, I was freaked out too!_

…_But…someone like him, goin' through all that? How's he supposed to react after all this time?_

…_Well, like a person dammit! But…_

_How would he know how to act like one? I was the one who…_

Ichigo gripped the bottom of the bench and clenched his jaw. _I never wanted anythin' to do with him to begin with. What did I even think I was doin'? No wonder everyone thought I was crazy. I was. Fuck him. Ugh, god. And I say that even after knowin—but he was still- it ain't an excuse!_

His head turned up when he heard footsteps, and there was Aizen in a button-down and jeans, sitting down next to him. _He came. …It's not like Ibaraki is that far away, but… _

"Kurosaki-kun. It's good to see you again," he said, and his brow furrowed as he took in freshman's appearance.

"Hey," Ichigo said, "…thanks for coming." Aizen reached out to touch his already bruising cheek, but the redhead pulled away. The bespectacled man drew his hand back, but didn't seem offended.

"What happened?"

"It's…It's nothin'," he lied, which made Sosuke grimace.

"Kurosaki, I haven't known you very long, but I know the way you sounded on the phone wasn't right. And since we're not off in a restaurant, I don't think this was meant to be a date."

"I just… thought it'd be nice to talk for awhile, y'know?" Ichigo muttered, resting his head in his hands, elbows on his knees.

"About what?" Aizen was so close. Muscled arm pressed up against his, shoe touching his foot_. Is it on purpose?_ Ichigo wondered. Why did he notice it?

"…Somethin' other than what happened tonight, preferably," he sighed heavily. "About you. I wanna know more about you," the redhead told him with sudden resolve. "Enough of this mysterious nice guy shit," he continued, hoping that if he faked his normal manner he'd go back to feeling that way quicker.

Aizen smiled teasingly. "I'm mysterious?" he asked. Ichigo nudged him with his shoulder. "Alright, alright. A story, then. Hmm…. Well… How about I tell you how I ended up coming out of the closet? …Back home at least," he cleared his throat and grinned nervously. "When I was a senior in high school, I was student council president. The vice president was a junior named Hinamori Momo, and her little foster-brother Hitsugaya Toshiro was treasurer. I'd known Hinamori for a long time, and I considered her a dear friend, but… I think she'd wanted to be more than that for quite some time, and it was becoming more and more noticeable. Except I'd only really _just_ started to realize why I'd never enjoyed any of my relationships before…"

"Uh oh." Ichigo remembered attempts in high school to avoid certain girls, though without knowing why at first.

"Yes… So I wasn't ready to tell Hinamori why I couldn't go out with her, but I didn't want to lose her as a friend either…" He trailed off. "So I made sure we were never alone, or if we were, I made excuses to leave as soon as possible. Except that sort of thing, no matter how clever one is, becomes obvious rather quickly. So Hinamori was getting more and more depressed, and I offered sympathy while pretending not to know why… And Hitsugaya was getting angrier and angrier about it. He even tried to corner me in the locker room about it and—" he smirked, "Well, he's a very good martial artist, but he is also rather… diminutive. But he said that if I ever made her cry, he'd beat the ever-loving hell out of me.

"Of course…One day, right before the winter school assembly, she caught me getting ready alone in a classroom and told me how she felt. I tried to tell her as nicely as possible that I just didn't think of her that way, but she began to cry. I'm not…" Aizen struggled with the words, "I'm not the best with girls. When they cry. You know, I don't know, girls just…"

Ichigo grinned widely at the man's discomfort. "I know what you mean," he replied. He was at a loss for what to do with any crying girl other than Karin or Yuzu. Even then he was pretty sure he wasn't that good at consoling them.

"So I kind of… Patted her on the shoulder and rushed out into the hallway just outside the gym," he explained, and the redhead smacked his forehead with one hand. "I told the others she wasn't feeling well and we would have to start without her… Except maybe five minutes later she came out, and it was obvious she'd been crying, so without missing a beat Histugaya _launched _himself at me, swinging away and I'm already a little on edge from everything so this was just crazy... But he's so short that I just… put my hands on his head and kept him at a distance," Aizen illustrated with his hands, "which just made him more and more furious and he started shouting that he was going to kill me, and everyone was freaking out and Hinamori was crying again, and for some reason I just blurted out, 'I'm _gay _Hitsugaya-kun!'"

Ichigo bit his lip to stop from laughing.

"And then all at once everyone went absolutely silent, just staring at me, and then I notice the entire _gym _just went silent too, because at that point they'd mic'ed me and, without telling me, _turned it on_. Then Hinamori says 'oh,' and Hitsugaya says 'oh' and just gives me the strangest look and almost everyone else looks confused or horrified, except for a junior who was starting to grin like crazy, and then the gym goes from being silent to being suffocatingly loud and…" Ichigo finally let go and laughed—he didn't want to seem too amused by Aizen's horrifying story, but he did get the feeling it was told to make him laugh anyway. "And that's how I came out," he finished with a rueful smile. The redhead kept laughing, until one turned into a hiccup, and then one sounded awfully like a sob. Instantly his hand clapped over his mouth and he looked down at the grass.

_God, how mortifying. _

"Kurosaki-kun…?" Aizen asked softly. Too understandingly.

Ichigo hung his head and buried his hands in his hair.

"Fuck…I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked you to-"

"Don't," he said quietly, and put his arm around the redhead's shoulders. Ichigo stiffened, but he didn't pull away. It didn't seem wrong, just…different. "I came because I wanted to. I knew it probably wasn't going to be sunshine and roses."

"But-"

"That's enough… I told you a story… Now tell me one," he coaxed, and after a moment, despite all his inclinations, Ichigo leaned against Aizen. _This is so foreign, _he thought self-consciously. _And I would never be doing it if tonight hadn't been such a shit show. Acting so… wounded. Over something stupid. It happened years and years ago._

"Well…A friend and I fought. But that's not really… I'd have to tell you the whole story or y'wouldn't understand," he growled in frustration.

"Alright," Sosuke said without missing a beat.

"Don't just… ugh! It's more complicated than that."

"Kurosaki…"

"Just remember you asked me to tell you, so you have to deal with it, alright?" Ichigo warned.

"I'm not going anywhere," Aizen replied, and rubbed his shoulder lightly. _So weird. So weird—_but it did make him feel better. Ichigo covered his eyes and took a deep breath before beginning.

"Don't interrupt, or…"

"Quieter than a mouse."

"…When I was little, my mom and I were in a convenience store, and these guys came in to rob it. …We were near the front of the store, so they grabbed my mom and held a gun to her. They said—they said that if anyone moved besides the guy givin' 'em cash they'd shoot her." Ichigo kept his eyes covered with one hand, rubbing his brow. Not to hide any tears, he told himself, but because he thought maybe he'd feel less ashamed if he did. He paused and swallowed hard before continuing. "I was a momma's boy. I thought… I dunno what I thought. I tried hittin' the one who was holdin' my mom, even though she told me not to do anythin'… He kicked me down and was gonna do more, but she fought with him and," his throat tightened, and then he stopped. _It wasn't your fault. Mom wanted you to be safe. Not your fault._

He was already telling a story he hardly ever told anyone. He wasn't going to cry or break down in addition. He wouldn't do it in public, in front of Aizen, he just wouldn't do it at all. The man next to him held him more tightly but stayed silent and didn't push him to finish the story.

"…She died," he finished. _And it was my fault. _Sosuke's arm tightened around Ichigo's shoulders.

"…I'm sorry," he began, but Ichigo shook his head and finally moved his hand from his eyes, though he didn't look up at the brown-haired man.

"That's not… I told you that because otherwise y'wouldn't get what happened tonight… I didn't want you thinkin' I was like this just cause guns're…scary or something." He stopped and looked at Aizen briefly; the man's gaze was gentle, patient, listening to everything Ichigo had to say. _I guess it's strange that I'm stunned by that. He's been exactly what he seems like this whole time…I should just trust him. _"Anyway…I…stopped a man who was trying to hurt me and my friend, and he had a gun. I held it in my hand. I was freaked, I was so fuckin' freaked out and everything just went fuzzy as soon as I saw it, I barely even remember fightin' 'im. And I held it out for Grimmjow to take, and he did… and then he punched me in the face."

Aizen's grip tightened again. "_What?" _He asked, disbelieving, "I…that…"

"He said he didn't need any help. I—I wouldn't've even cared, 'cause I know he's such a fuckin' asshole, but I was…I _am, _just…" It was funny how he was more pissed about Grimmjow's reaction than he was anxious over his ordeal. …_Well, no. That ain't funny at all. Actually it's fuckin' annoying._

"You needed his help," Aizen said with restrained anger, "after giving yours, that isn't too much to ask."

"Don't…don't say that shit," Ichigo said and hunched over again. _God _this was getting to him too much. The brunette next to him gently touched his face and turned it to look up at him. The soft touch made Ichigo's eyes close and his jaw clench in pain; he couldn't explain why the kindness made him ache.

Then Aizen's lips claimed his and he was stunned into opening his eyes. Ignoring Ichigo's suddenly rigid body, Aizen deepened the kiss and a million thoughts ran through the Ichigo's head. _What? Oh. His lips are big. And soft. This is strange. This ain't the right time, is it? But oh it feels good. _So his eyes closed and he kissed back. One hand grabbed the back of Sosuke's shirt, the other, his side. It was a little awkward; he'd never kissed anyone before and whatever minute signals told experienced people what to do were a mystery to him, but Aizen didn't seem to care. _Does anyone else ever feel healed by this? _Because he did. Every grasp of the man's mouth, every bit closer that he inched, seemed to lift a weight from his chest and Ichigo didn't feel inclined to stop.

He felt Sosuke's tongue run carefully across his lips and thought, _that's kinda far… _And blatantly ignoring his mind, his mouth opened invitingly. Aizen's tongue slid in next to his, and it was one of the more peculiar things he'd felt in his life; wet and soft, twining around his tongue and mouth and it was _weird_ and he was pretty sure he wanted more, and let out a little sound from the back of his throat.

Aizen jumped back in an instant and held himself at arm's length, looking, to Ichigo's surprise, profoundly embarrassed.

"…I'm sorry, I never meant to, ah…" he said, flushing

"You're s_orry?_" The redhead asked incredulously.

"You looked like you needed it…and I wanted it, but I didn't mean to take advantage-"

Ichigo ignored him. "You better not be fucking sorry!" He pulled Aizen down by his hair and kissed him again.

* * *

Ichigo was having a hard time pinning his face down into his normal scowl, even a light one. It was almost uncomfortably bizarre that he could have felt so anxious and furious earlier and that one person could make him forget. Mostly it seemed sappy and stupid, but even as he walked into his room, a smile was tugging at one corner of his lips. Ishida glanced up briefly from his work, but didn't bother to say hello. Then he looked back up with a raised eyebrow.

"What happened to _you_?" He asked as Ichigo sat down on the couch.

"What're you talkin' about?" The redhead asked through his teeth, his attempt to scowl pulling his mouth into a slightly disturbing and awkward grimace, which just made his roommate cock his head and look even more confused. But, surprisingly, Ichigo found himself not caring what comments Ishida was going to make.

Though he was more than ready to deny whatever he had to say.

"What am I talking about? You've got a bruise on your cheek and you're desperately trying to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot. Those things don't normally go together."

"Well, what can I say I, uh…had a good practice."

"Practice is cancelled so that none of you get herpes."

"…I'm goin' to bed," Ichigo said hurriedly, and turned his back to change.

"…Did you just get back from a date? I don't know what that has to do with the bruise because you wouldn't be smiling if she'd done it, so… Maybe you saved a girl and got a date in return?"

"That's stupid, Ishida,"

"So who is it?"

"Go to bed!"

"I didn't know you even knew anyone besides us."

"Ishida!"

"So where'd you meet her? I was starting to worry that you were completely asexual—you never even had the slightest hint of interest in Inoue-chan after all…"

"SHUT UP!"


End file.
